She Waits
by SleepingwithinWater
Summary: Enjolras; for learning was his love, France was his mistress, and the men he surrounded himself with were his brothers. But when he gets lonely, he makes a hasty choice and sends his world spiraling out of control. And he drags every other poor soul down with him.
1. Chapter 1

_She waits for you, dear love, she waits. For you to pick up the pieces and put them back into place._

_For you to waltz through the door and to say, "I'm here. Don't worry. My love, you look so pretty in that lace." _

_She waits, dear love, she waits. For the child with your hair, for the one she sorely misses. _

_She waits, dear love, she waits. "But take your time," she says, "For I'll always be in this place."_

* * *

Dark, thick fog clouded through the streets of France. Shutters clattered closed and the occasional stray cat curled around the ankles of Enjorlas' boots. He cursed as he nearly tripped, holding the bundle closer to his chest. The bread was his lifeline; he couldn't loose it now. The familiar, and thoroughly comforting, lights of the ABC Cafè shined brightly around the corner, warming his heart more than the bread ever could. For learning was his love, France was his mistress, and the men he surrounded himself with were his brothers. A loud cheer greeted him as he skirted through the door.

Courferyac put his paper down and smiled broadly. "It's about time you came back!" he jumped up, rushing for the two loaves of bread Enjorlas set down on the table.

Joly laughed and followed suit, ripping off a hunk of the loaf. "Oh, yes, we were worried sick. 'Bout to send out Lesgles to find you!" the rest of the ABC Society laughed, patting the blushing Lesgles on the back; for Lesgles was known to be the unlucky one of the group.

Enjorlas rolled his eyes, glancing around the room. "Where is Marius?" he asked, dreading the answer. Twice. Twice the young boy had not shown up for the meetings. He was far away whenever he was present, and even further away when he was not.

"Marius?" Grantaire scoffed. "Is there even a Marius anymore?"

"Don't be a sour puss," Joly whispered, handing him the last of the bread. "Marius tries his best."Grantaire shrugged, handing half of his piece to Gavroche, who sat underneath the sole table in the Cafè.

"Gavroche," Feuilly attempted to change the subject, "how is your sister? Eponine, was it?"

Gavroche crawled out from under the table. "Sister? I ain't got not sister; no family t'all."

"Don't lie, Gavroche," Grantaire frowned.

"Well," the boy softened. "I've got a sister, a mum, a da'. But I fend for myself, I do."

"And rightfully so! The people of France need the freedom to live as they please and to do as they-"

"Oh, Enjorlas, please, let us have one night without a revolution speech. I am tired, and all I really want is a nice plump woman." Grantaire took a swig of his wine.

Enjorlas gritted his teeth together. "Unfortunately, for you, there are no _plump women _around any longer because they can't-" he sighed, breaking himself off. _Maybe they're right. Maybe they do need a break. _As he took a good hard look at the faces of the men around him, he finally noticed the dark rings under their eyes from too much planning, studying, or writing; he noticed the lines that weren't there when they had all first met, and he noticed, too, the light fading from their once vivid eyes. He was too eager about their possible freedom to notice the toll it was taking. If this was what was happening to them, what could he possibly look like? He must work twice as harder, always up late, thinking, hardly letting a morsel cross his lips (most of the time he just forgot to eat). Enjorlas nodded quickly. "Okay. _Okay. _Please go, and run wild for the night-" a collective murmurer ran through the men. "But do _not _impregnate some poor soul. We can't have any doubles of you running around. God help us all!"

The men laughed, a real laugh, for the first time in awhile, before they began to file out of the room, drinks in hand. Enjorlas stayed put at the table, his hands steepled under his chin, eyes closed. Prouvaire remained for a moment, his hand resting on Enjorlas' shoulder. "You should come out, too," he said, voice gentle.

Enjorlas considered it for a fraction of a second, but there was much work to be done before they could rise and fight. He shook his head violently. "No!" his near-shout scared him, as it did Prouvaire. Taking a shaky breath, he waved one of the youngest men away. "No. No. I am fine. You go on."

Provaire, nearly shaking in his boots, rushed out of the room, bumping into Marius along the way, mumbling about poems to be finished and money to be earned. Marius laughed underneath his breath as he watched the lad scurry away like a mouse. As he climbed the steps to the top floor of the Cafè, he wasn't surprised at all to see Enjorlas alone.

"You haven't gone?" he asked, taking a seat far enough away so Enjorlas couldn't throw something at him if he entered into a rampage like he so often did.

"No."

"You should have. You look like Death."

"And you," Enjorlas turned to the boy. "Look like Life."

"Because I get out of here once and awhile. I feel as strongly as you do, Enjorlas, but I know when my heart and brain have had enough for one day."

Enjorlas scoffed. "I've never had enough."

Marius was so often puzzled by the older man. He was strong, and clever, and brave. He cared for the men of the ABC more than anyone ever could, but he would sometimes.. become so distant and cold, and his charisma would wither into the shell of a man he really was. Enjorlas could strike up excitement and the best type of fear in the most resolved bishop or nun and get them to join the revolution in three sentences if he wanted. But when all was said in done, Marius figured he was one of the saddest men on the planet. And also one of the greatest.

* * *

Enjorlas finally broke. He left the ABC after Marius' ramblings about some angel name Cosette. He stalked through the streets, angrily slamming shutters that had been left open, awakening the children inside.

_Women. They always seem to get in the way._

After his mother hardly even looked at him, Enjorlas found it hard to trust women, much less love them. Oh, of course, he found sort comfort in a quick roll, but nothing ever lasted. _Maybe, though, _he often told himself, _I'll find her one day,. And everything will fall into place. _But that thought became less and less comforting as the days grew closer to the revolution. He would gladly give up his life for his country, and no woman would stop that.

As Enjorlas rounded yet another corner, he heard the sound of crying. Internally groaning, he thought of turning back; Marius would skin him alive if he came back, though. So he soldiered on in the cold, trying not to pay attention to the frail figured, huddled against the wall.

Then she looked up and Enjorlas stopped in his track, taking his hands from his pockets.

This. This is what he fought for. This is what he was trying to get rid of. The poor crying souls on the corner. The ones forgotten and opressed.

"Please, Monsieur," she began, masking the shaking in her voice. "Do not stare."

He faltered. "Right. Yes. Right. I'm sorry." then he paused. Had he seen her somewhere before? "Are.. are you Eponine?"

"Yes.." she said carefully.

He smiled slightly, holding out his hands. "Then you'd best come with me."

* * *

Hooray! My first Les Mis fanfic! If you could kindly leave what you thought, I'd be much obliged. :) Thanks so much!

~ Jessie


	2. Chapter 2

Holy.. Um.. Okay. I love you all. That's all I can say. Thank you _so, so _much.

EXCEPT! Special thanks to everyone who informed me of my misspelling of Enjolras (I think **shriveledwankclaw **was the first to tell me since that was my first review. I read your fic/one-shot. Holy cow! I was dead. If you guys like E/E, read it! It'll leave you in a pool of.. yeah.. well..) Super, super sorry. His name was a struggle from the beginning. I've fixed it, though.

* * *

"Where.. where are you taking me?" Eponine asked meekly, her hand latched in Enjolras'. Usually, she was strong, very strong. Much like the marble many of the buildings in France were constructed out of. Enjolras just smiled to himself. His hand felt limp in hers, so his tightened his grip.

"To Les Amis de l'ABC," he whispered.

"The Cafè?" Eponine jerked her hand away quickly; Marius would be there. Underneath her coat, a rapidly creasing letter was shoved in her pocket, waiting to be delivered to Cosette. Enjolras stopped when she did, turned around, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Is there something wrong with the Cafè?" he suddenly felt ashamed of the deteriorating building. But why? This.. this was Eponine; the girl beyond infatuated with Marius; the street smart, lonely, relatively annoying girl.

She shook her head. "No. Of course not. I.." she looked away down a nearby alley. "I just have to deliver something for Monsieur Marius." taking a step back, she wrung her hands together.

Enjolras nodded. "Yes. Marius.." there was an awkward pause. "Why were you crying out there?" he asked.

Eponine shrugged. "I get sad sometimes."

"Because Marius does not love you?" Enjolras bit the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted metal. What in the world had possessed him to say such a thing?! Maybe he was just so tired, or partially drunk, he didn't process it. Or maybe he just didn't care anymore. Eponine's face fell quickly, like an avalanche. Enjolras stepped forward, his hand out beseechingly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

Eponine shook her head, turning to the side. "Monsieur, I thank you for attempting to be.. kind. I have places to go; I must help my father." she turned to run off.

"Wait! Really, though, Eponine, I am sorry." he sighed.

Eponine turned around again, her eyes shimmering with tears. "Yes. I'm sure you are."

* * *

The sudden fall of rain bit along Eponine's collar bone and shoulders as she rushed through the alleys and roads. _Because Marius does not love you.. Because Marius does not love you.. Because Marius does not love you._ Over and over the words mocked Eponine and her lonely heart.

As she stopped to catch her breath, Eponine clutched her middle. Rain was a peculiar thing. Sometimes, she loved it; other times it drove her mad. Rain could either take away pain, or bring it. It could flood houses, kill loved ones, or not come at all and starve hungry mouths. It was a merciless killer. But rain could water the Earth, make the flowers grow, and quench parched lips. It was also a benevolent server. In some ways, rain reminded her of the man who had picked her up. She had seen him before, once, when Gavroche wanted to show her the Cafè. He was fire. Ablaze with passion and fury that could light the night sky like a rocket. He was softer, though, when he had found her huddled against the wall for warmth and solitude. But Eponine didn't think much of him at all. Except now she thought he was a self-righteous ass.

How could he say such a thing? The entire world new Marius Pontmercy did not love Eponine Thénardier; there was no need to remind her. It broke her even more inside. Oh, but how she loved Marius so..

She had to deliver the letter, even if it meant steering him away even more. For Eponine Thénardier loved Marius Pontmercy and she would help him win his Cosette if it killed her.

* * *

Enjolras kicked himself and kicked himself. _Because Marius does not love you.. Because Marius does not love you.. Because Marius-_

"_ARGH!_" Enjolras threw his fists against a nearby wall. He felt nothing for Eponine; nothing. But the way her face fell, and her eyes quivered with sadness made him want to jump off a building. Women were never his strong point. They fell for his easily enough, but he hardly ever felt anything in return.

"Monsieur!" a woman flung out of her door, clutching a wailing child. Enjolras looked up, surprised. "Keep your voice down!"

He nodded meekly, backing down the alley into the open road. "Yes. Excusez-moi, Madame."

Enjolras broke off into a sprint, his blond shaggy hair clinging to his neck. His mind was reeling with thoughts of words, Eponine, and the revolution. He ended up in the bad part of town, the shipwreck the whores generally lounged around in. He noticed some of "his" men gripping a woman (or sometimes women) on their side. Anger swelled up inside of him; he needed to release it. Enjolras swaggered up to a woman and gripped his hands tightly on her hips. She resisted at first; he had not yet paid. But she soon complied when he mouth plundered her's. Enjolras pulled a way for a moment, and Eponine's face suddenly took the place of the whore's in front of him. He let go and staggered back, groping for a wall, anything to hold onto. Bile rose in his throat as he hit the ground.

_Eponine. What? What is she doing to me? Dear God. I need to get out of here. _

Enjolras scrambled to his feet and rushed away from the shipwreck, bumping into Grantaire along the way. "Oy! Enjolras! Didn't think I'd find you here?" he gripped his friend by the shoulders, studying the fear in his eyes. "Cat got your tongue or just some lass?" he winked.

Enjolras shook his head. "Lass. Lass.. no lass." he mumbled.

Grantaire put the back of his hand against Enjolras' forehead. "You don't feel so good, my friend. You feel mighty hot." Grantaire turned around and whistled Comberferre over. The young man ran over quickly, question shining in his eyes.

"Yes?"

"Take Enjolras back to the Cafè. I think 'e might be sick. Get Maria to make him lie down for once!"

Comberferre nodded, taking Enjolras by the elbow. "Come on," he whispered quietly, "Maria will take care of you now."

Enjolras' eyes began to droop as he was led along the winding streets. He felt his stomach churn and his heart pound. He didn't get sick; he fought it, he fought everything. That's what he was a fighter, a leader. Who would lead his men if he was ill? Marius? He shuddered at the thought.

"Comberferre," he groaned. "I can't.. I can't be ill."

Comberferre nearly giggled. "Everyone gets sick, and you _are _in need of a break." he hooked his arms underneath Enjolras' armpits and hoisted him up the stairs of the Cafè. "Maria!" he yelled. "Enjolras is sick!"

Maria, the portly woman who helped with Les Amis, rushed out from an adjoining room, wiping her hands. "My, my. It's about time. Take him 'round to the back; there's a cot that's been calling his name for ages."

Comberferre did as told, and bid Enjolras a good night and pleasant rest, before going upstairs to finish his writings (he had decided it was best not to turn out sick like Enjolras; too much fun did that to a person). Enjolras rested his head on a pillow and felt his eyes roll back. _I'm just.. so.. tired. _He vaguely recalled Maria helping him when he finally let go of the bile in his stomach, but soon sleep overcame him and he was deep in a trance, dreaming of the revolution, and his men, and Eponine.

* * *

I'm basing the looks of Enjolras off Aaron Tveit, from the movie, 'cause lets face it, he's a gorgeous man with nice arms and a nice voice.

I am so thankful for all of your reviews and follows and favorites! It means so much as a writer to know people enjoy your pieces. I look forward to hearing for you all more and more. :) On a side note, I don't know when the next chapter will be. Probably this weekend. 'Annie' practices start tomorrow, so I'm aiming for Saturday or Sunday afternoon.

~ Jessie


	3. Chapter 3

I wanted to make it completely clear to everyone that this _is _going to be an AU fic. I mean, not completely and utterly AU, but pretty AU. Thanks to **judybear236** for being my pseudo-beta. Your advice is much appreciated. And thanks to everyone once again for all your support.

Omg. I'm watching 'The Great Mouse Detective' and I'm currently on my second cup of Apple Cider. So content I'm bawling.

* * *

Enjolras vomited again. Isabella, the young girl who helped run the Cafè along with Maria, wiped Enjolras' forehead with a damp cloth. She bit the inside of her cheek. She had seen Enjolras before, along with the others, and she was quite fond of them and their talk of freedom. Maria bustled in, handing her a new bowl in case anything else made an appearance. "You can go home, my dear," she said, patting the younger girl's shoulder.

Isabella looked up over her shoulder. "I'd rather stay here and look after him."

Maria waited for a moment. "Isabella, Enjolras does not-"

Isabella swallowed and nodded. "I know, Madame. Please let me stay until Feuilly gets back."

"All right. But don't say I didn't warn you, girl. I'm headed home then.." Maria tugged off her apron and sent Enjolras a compassionate glance before walking away. And Isabella waited.

* * *

The hours began to pass and soon the wee slivers of morning's light cracked through slits in walls of the Cafè. Isabella had remained true to her word to wait until someone came to open the tavern in the morning. Enjolras had had a restless night, shifting and murmuring in his sleep. By noon time, the Amis began to wander into the tavern, grabbing a drink before resuming their studies on the top floor. As they settled in, Maria hobbled up the stairs with a tray of cheese and sliced meat, informing the young men of Enjolras' sudden sickness. They all rustled around uncomfortably, nervous since it was so rare Enjolras was absent. Maria reassured them, though, that he would be all right, and that Marius would most likely take over while he was away.

Grantaire groaned after the elderly woman left the room. "Marius.."

Joly, for once, agreed with the other man. "He isn't even here."

"Good afternoon!" Marius jogged up the stairs, throwing a stack of papers on the table.

"Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear," Grantaire mumbled, taking a swig of his liquor. Marius ignored his comment, taking a seat. Les Amis worked and chatted the day away, until soon it was night again. Gavroche, who had showed up just in time for dinner, whipped his head around at the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs.

"Do you think it's Javert?" he asked quietly. When his father did want him, Gavroche would often help his family steal from others. More times than not, the Thénardier family and their gang would run into Javert and hastily pack up shop. That was until Gavroche's father abandoned him to the lonely, cruel streets of Paris. He claimed the young boy had too much of a mouth; both to feed and to keep closed. So, he sent him away. "If it's Javert," he continued to whisper, "I'll show him who runs the streets!" he held up his little fists.

Grantaire shushed him by holding his mouth. Enjolras' mop of blond hair appeared and the men in the top floor of the Cafè breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "Welcome to the land of the living," Grantaire said dryly (although he was probably happier to see him than any of the other men).

"Hardly," Enjolras croaked, before slumping into the nearest chair. "I don't know what came over me."

"Ale, probably," Comberferre noted. "You rarely drink, and I think you had a bit too much."

Enjolras shrugged and held his forehead. "My head feels like a thousand drums."

Grantaire laughed loudly. "Then yes, Enjolras, I'm sure you drank too much last night. Come on, drink this." he passed the other man a beaker of water which Enjolras downed quickly.

"Thank you," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

The room was silent for a moment before Marius spoke up. "Enjolras, can I ask you something?" Enjolras waved his hand in consent. "Do.." he looked around the room and noticed the men staring at him. Marius stood and dropped to his knees before Enjolras, lowering his voice. The other men noticed his need for privacy and continued to talk amongst themselves. "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

Ejolras nearly spit fire. At a time like this, all the young boy could think about was love. This _did not _help his headache. "Marius," Enjolras kept his voice low and gravelly, "this is not the time. I do not care about love nor _your _lonely heart! _Please. Keep your mind to the matter at hand._"

Marius frowned, but would not back down. "Would you just answer me? A simple yes or no; I need no explanation. I just want to know."

"No, Marius, I do not believe in love at first sight."

Marius sighed. "Do you believe in any sort of love, Enjolras?"

"I believe in love of one's country, that is it." Enjolras stood up carefully. "I need some air." and with that he left the Cafè without so much as a second glance.

* * *

Eponine had been running very hard when she finally came to a halting stop. She needed to get away from the tiny house hidden on the convent grounds as fast as possible. Eponine ran a hand through her dark locks, sniffing once. "Damn it all," she whispered, wiping her eyes. She had done as she was asked: delivered the letter to Cosette.

_Cosette. _

The name made her skin crawl. _She is the root of all our problems_, Eponine thought. She was lovely, though. Eponine remembered the first time she saw her. She had been standing, hidden, behind a large branch of a tree, watching as Marius and Cosette professed their undying love for one another. It made Eponine want to gag. The two hardly knew each other; they didn't even know each other's names.

Cosette was the epitome of purity. She was a cloud not yet full of rain; she was a white flower that had just bloomed; she was the shiniest of crystals. 'Ponine could see why Marius loved her. Eponine had been around. She wasn't exactly the purest of folk. But, to please her love, Eponine gave the letter to Cosette. She was tempted to read it beforehand, just to see what it said, but she knew better. Cosette's eyes lit up like a fire when Eponine said it was from Marius. Cosette had thanked her meekly and scurried away.

Now, Eponine was left to herself,_ again_. She picked up a nearby stick and trailed it along the wall beside her, humming a sad tune. When she looked around the corner, she saw Le Cafè de l'ABC and her blood began to boil. She had half a mind to go inside and beat Marius to a pulp; she also had half a mind to go inside, snatch up Gavroche and run away to some foreign country. Oh how she missed her little brother.

She snuck up to the front door, peering inside. Les Amis were on the top floor, she knew that; below was the tavern Maria ran. Gavroche was sitting on the staircase, watching the people, and scarfing down a hunk of meat. "Gavroche," she whispered harshly through the window. "Gavroche!" but he didn't hear her. Defeated and tired, Eponine turned around to walk away; home, maybe, she didn't really know.

Then she heard her name.

"_Eponine._"

Eponine turned around and shielded her eyes from the light pouring out of the Cafè door. "Enjolras?"

* * *

I feel like I leave these chapters on a "cliff-hanger" every time. It's a bad habit. There wasn't much that was going on in this chapter, _but _there should be some "action" in the next. I dunno what to call it. Feedback?!

~ Jessie


	4. Chapter 4

Dang! I keep forgetting to put a disclaimer! Poop.

**Disclaimer: I own none of the characters within this fic, unless they aren't directly from the story. Then they are mine. Everything goes to the rightful owner. **

* * *

"_Eponine_," Enjolras breathed. Eponine turned around quickly, her brow furrowed. Enjolras was suddenly nervous she wouldn't remember him from the day earlier; his chest tightened when he remembered what he had last said.

_Because Marius does not love you.._

Eponine raised her hand to her forehead, shielding her eyes.

"Enjolras?" she answered, completely confused. When he failed to answer, she asked again, "Monsieur?" Enjolras straightened himself and exited the Cafè quickly. He ran a rough hand through is hair, stopping in front of the younger girl. "Is there something you wanted me to get, Monsieur?"

It was Enjolras' turn to be confused. "Get.. get something? No. No, Mademoiselle! I don't need anything.."

Eponine's eyes widened in question. "Then what is it that you want?"

Enjolras noticed the darkness around them and pointed a thumb inside, ignoring her question. "Would you like to come inside? It's dark.. and cold.."

Eponine took a step back and shook her head violently. "No." _Marius is in there.. and Gavroche.. _

Enjolras nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Would you like to.. go on a walk? I'm eager for air." Eponine gave Enjolras a cautious nod. "Very well then." the two began to walk together, a few feet separating them. At first, it was terribly awkward; the two hardly knew each other, so there was not much to be said. Eponine wanted to mention the revolution, but she wouldn't know what to say about it; sometimes she got confused as to what was going on. Enjolras wanted to mention Marius, or Gavroche, but he figured both were too painful of topics. "I really am sorry for what I said a few days ago, about Marius.."

Eponine shrugged. "You've apologized before, Monsieur. I'm not angry. The whole world knows it to be the truth." there was a lull in the conversation. "Are you afraid? Of dying?" Eponine whispered, beckoning Ejolras down an old alley.

Enjolras kept quiet for a moment before answering. "Yes.. and no.."

Eponine chuckled, skirting through a gateway. "Explain, would you?"

"Well," Enjolras began, "I don't really want to die. I don't think any of the lads do. But we're willing to. Patria _is _my mistress, you know?" Enjolras gave off a loud laugh that made Eponine's heart flutter when he noticed her stunned face. "I'm only joking, Mademoiselle. Patris is the Latin word for 'homeland.' I do not have a mistress, nor do I plan to. When I first told the lads that, some of them believed me. You should have seen the looks on their faces.. Old Enjolras.. A mistress.." he faded off sadly.

Clearing his throat, he looked around. He hadn't been paying attention as they walked along the cobblestone; too consumed by his thoughts and the strangely sweet smell coming off Eponine (how could a girl who lived on the streets smell _so good_?). They stood sheltered between the four corners of four different buildings; in a triangle, if you will. The dark sky cut the small opening above them revealing the stars Eponine found so comforting. "Where are we?" Enjolras whispered. He had never been to this side of town; whatever side they were on, he didn't know.

"I'm not exactly sure," 'Ponine said, smiling over at him. "But I come here often. Come on. I want to show you something." she waved him over to an iron ladder attached to one wall. She climbed up nimbly, scurrying across the roof silently.

Enjolras latched one hand on a rung and grunted softly as he made his assent. When he reached the top, Eponine was now where to be found. He frowned. Had she just left him there? He wouldn't be able to find his way back to the Cafè if his life depended on it! Then he saw her and he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "Good!" he smiled, walking over to her, far from silent. "I thought you'd-"

"_Hush, Monsieur!_" Eponine pointed to a large hole in a roof two feet away; they could clearing see inside an obscure tavern full of bustling people. Enjolras muttered an 'oh' and laid down on his stomach beside Eponine, his hands under his chin. After a short silence, Eponine looked over. "Do you like to watch people, Enjolras?" he could hear the smile in her voice without looking over; he shrugged. "Well, I do. I find it fascinating. No one ever knows I'm there, and I can find out little pieces of things I shouldn't know and piece it all together and get a whole scandal! It's thrilling. And.. sad.."

Enjolras looked puzzled. "Sad?"

She nodded quickly. "Mmm. No one sees me.. not ever.. Not ol' 'Ponine." she scoffed.

"I see you," Enjolras whispered, inching closer.

Eponine frowned and pointed into the hole in the roof, diverting the conversation; her heart beat was dangerously high. "Look! You see that woman there! She is cheating on her husband. I've seen her here before. Once she came with her husband. Another time she came with him, but skirted off into the back room with an attendant. And _another _time she came alone and made eyes at men the whole night. Well, she did more than make eyes.."

Enjolras laughed softly. "Let me try then. Let me try to be like the Great Detective 'Ponine." he looked down and scowled in concentration. After a moment, his face lit up. "There, in the corner booth.. That man just took 3 sous out of the attendant's pocket."

Eponine smiled, looking over. "You're catching on."

"Thank you," Enjolras whispered, looking over too. He made a point to keep her gaze. As many times as he had seem Eponine, he had never really _seen _Eponine. He was going to use this moment to his advantage. Eponine's eyes were dark like the sky they were under. Her hair fell out from behind her ears in dark waves; he couldn't place the color, though. Something between a black and dark brown; not too brown, and dark enough to be near black, but not exactly black. Her skin was a shade darker than pale and unscarred, and she had this adorable smudge of dirt underneath her left eye. Her lips formed a thin line underneath a small nose. Her waist (which Enjolras made a point not to stare at for too long) was unimaginably tiny. Enjolras felt that if he were ever to hug her, he would break her in an instant. But Enjolras knew Eponine was not fragile like this.. Cosette. She was stronger than twenty men in her heart and wittier than Gavroche sometimes; at least, he thought she might be.

While Enjolras was studying Eponine as intently as he studied his books, Eponine was doing the same to him. She wanted nothing more than to run her small, delicate hands through his mop of blond hair. His strong jaw made her want to faint and his massive hands and long fingers were ones she wished would hold hers. His eyes were a dark blue (but once, she had seen them be the color of the brightest day) and there were dark rings underneath from too much work. He had a strong build; one sure to fight and protect. Eponine felt her breath catch in her throat.

But then the sound of a pot dropping in the tavern broke the spell.

Enjolras physically jumped, but Eponine's eyes just closed in fright. Enjolras cleared his throat. "Eponine.. I-"

Eponine stood up quickly, walking toward the ladder slowly, shaking off any feeling she had had earlier. "Enjolras, don't you think you should be getting back? The men will wonder.."

Enjolras stood slowly, wiping his pants. "Yes.. the men.." he walked toward her slowly. "'Ponine-" he tried once more to say something, but she held up a hand.

"Please do not say that," she whispered, looking away.

He laughed, smiling. "Say what?"

"Say 'Ponine."

"Is it because of Marius?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She nodded, blushing, turning away. Enjolras laughed. "I see. I will call you Eponine then. If that makes you happy. Tell me something.."

She looked up from the ground, her eyes shimmering. "What?"

He took a breath. "Are you afraid of me?"

"Afraid?" she scoffed. "Hardly."

"Then why won't you let me in. You're a lovely girl, Eponine. And.. and I think that you might find me to be a nice man, once you get past the horridness.."

"You're not horrid, Enjolras."

He walked forward a step, placing his hands on her forearms. She stiffened. "Please," she whispered, closing her eyes.

Enjolras frowned, anger beginning to bubble. He liked Eponine, hard as it was to admit. Ever since he had seen her in the alleyway crying, he felt the need to take her under his wing and never let anything horrible touch her again. He wanted to make her happy; the way Marius made Cosette happy. He wanted to please her and hold a place in her heart. He didn't understand it at all, which was what made the feeling so glorious. For once, he didn't care of the revolution, or of work, or of Les Amis, he cared about Eponine and that was it. In a way he understood why she was being.. cold. She loved Marius. She wouldn't just fall into his arms at the snap of his fingers. It would take time to break Marius' hold. But another half of him wanted to shake the hold off of her. But he would never hurt a woman.

"Eponine, you're afraid to say how you feel because you love Marius, is that right?! I can tell. You and I feel the same way. It makes no sense to me, but it just feels.. right!"

"Enjolras-"

Enjolras tightened his grip. "By God, Eponine! You don't get it! You're smart, and you know things no one else does, and you're.. ravishing.. But why hold out on Marius when he won't ever be there?!" he noticed the tears build up in her eyes. "Eponine," his voice softened. "I.. God. I've done it again." he let go of her arms and turned around, putting his hands on his hips. He expected to hear the sound of her retreating feet and constrained sobs, but he heard nothing. Enjolras felt a warm hand on his elbow; he turned slightly.

"You're right, Enjolras. And I thank you. You're the only one who has ever tried to.. help.. me out of my fix. What you said was true, not mean." Eponine's eyes still shinned with tears, but there was undoubtably admiration in her eyes.

Enjolras turned around and held her arms again. "Then, please, tell me, really.. How do you feel?"

Eponine paused. "I think you are.. one of the most caring, and passionate men on the face of the planet.. and I would like nothing more than to kiss you under the stars.."

Enjolras felt his heart stop and flutter. "I can maybe oblige your wish, Mademoiselle." he smirked, a smirk that wobbled Eponine's knees, and held her chin in between his forefinger and thumb, lowering his lips to her. Just as their lips were about to touch, a man in the tavern cursed loudly, causing the two to jump once again. Eponine giggled, nearly killing Enjolras. That laugh. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips softly to his.

Sparks flew. As the seconds passed, Enjolras needed to feel more than just her chin. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close. Eponine responded and gripped the back of his curls, pulling slightly. She pulled away first, pressing their foreheads together. "Enjolras?" she whispered.

"Mhmm?" he responded, eyes still closed, bodies still close.

"You're also _very _handsome," she whispered, blushing deeply.

And Enjolras laughed so hard the folk in the tavern heard it.

* * *

Boom. Please read and review! Thanks again for the support!

~ Jessie


	5. Chapter 5

So, I passed out Wednesday morning, around 4:30, in my kitchen. That was pretty scary.. and it is also why the update took longer than expected. I thought I would be able to get it out sooner since I was home all day Tuesday and Wednesday, but my troll body was all, "No! _Sleep forever and cough a lot_."

**Disclaimer: I own none of the characters within this fic. Everything goes to the rightful owner. **

* * *

The rain battered the roof of the Cafè so hard the Les Amis who were still there felt a slight spray come through the window. Joly groaned and put his forehead in his hands. "Grantaire, close that, will you?"

Grantaire lowered the bottle of alcohol from his lips. "Why don't you do it?"

"Because I've got a horrid headache and no one else is here.."

Grantaire rolled his eyes and stood up from the table, wobbling slightly. He stumbled to the window, squinting his eyes when the spray hit him. Before he closed the window, though, he saw two figures in the darkness. He was able to pick out that red vest anywhere. Enjolras.

But.. that didn't make sense...? He himself had seen Enjolras go to bed on the cot in the back corner. Had he snuck out? Surely Grantaire would have known! Enjolras' footsteps were mighty loud and could be heard from a mile off if one strained their ears well enough. And who was the other figure? Enjolras didn't really have much family around; hardly any of them did. And he _certainly _didn't have any lady friends. It was like the man didn't know there was such a thing as a woman. But the figure did seem to have some feminine attributes. There was a nice curve to the waist, and long hair (or was that just the dark playing tricks?), and even what seemed to be breasts. Unless Enjolras had a friend who was a man with curves and breasts, Grantaire swore the other person was a woman.

Grantaire shut the window when Joly began to complain again. He stumbled back to the desk, taking another swig of gin. Enjolras having a woman? The thought worried him. If Enjolras became distracted from the revolution, no one would be there to urge Les Amis to continue on. They were all getting so tired, and it seemed as if the uprising was years away, not months. And then there were all the papers they had due, and the speeches that had to be written.. Grantaire knew that without Enjolras nothing would get done besides eating, sleeping, school papers, and the occasional lady. Their plans for the revolution would be set back even further. Earlier in the week, the man who believed in nothing had begun to notice an odd change in Enjolras. Ever since he had left the Cafè in such a hurry days ago, the older man had become.. happier.. light-headed, if you will. He was less focused and much more lenient to Marius. It was time Grantaire shook the man out of his stupor. This _had _to end.

* * *

Enjolras grinned, lighting up the night. "Eponine, wont you come inside?" he asked. It had been more than a week since the night on the roof, and Enjolras had made a vow to try as hard as he could to not kiss the fair maiden again. He wanted each kiss to be special and as spontaneous as the first; he had only failed his mission once.

Eponine's eyes revealed a sudden mixture of pain and sorrow. She shook her head. "No, Monsieur. Thank you, though."

"The others are sure to be gone, and it's very cold outside, not to mention raining. I can't have you getting sick." he placed a hand on her warm shoulder. "Please.."

"No, Monsieur! I cannot."

Enjolras fought the urge to groan aloud. Why did she have to be so stubborn?! "Eponine, you're catch your death out here! Where will you go?"

Eponine's eyes sparkled. "I do have a home, Monsieur."

"And, God help me, if you call me Monsieur one more time-"

Eponine blushed. "Yes. Yes. I'm sorry.. Enjolras."

Enjolras smiled. "There." he paused. "Are you sure?"

The girl laughed. "_Yes! _I will see you when I next see you, Enjolras." and she ran off in the night.

Enjolras wiped the silly grin off his face as best he could and ran a hand through his soaked hair. He quickly turned on his heel and ran into the near empty Cafè. "Maria!" he called, shrugging off his wet vest, leaving him in his white cotton shirt.

"What do ya want, Enjolras?! My sister is gonna have her baby any minute now and I need to get over there!" Maria came out of the back room, tugging off her apron. "Whatever you need, Isabella can get you.."

Enjolras pouted his lower lip. "But, Maria-"

"I have to go, Monsieur!"

He sighed. "Isabella," he turned to the young girl with the auburn hair. "Can you get me a mug, please?" Isabella nodded meekly and poured him a mug of cider (she knew full well Enjolras didn't like to drink much). She placed it in his hands and scurried away. Enjolras chuckled; he knew the young girl was infatuated with all Les Amis and it always made him laugh how her cheeks turned bright red when any of them talked to her.

He took the stairs two at a time, ruffling Gavroche's hair when he passed him. When he reached the top floor he saw only two of his friends: Joly and Grantaire. Joly was fast asleep, a cold rag on his forehead. Grantaire, on the other hand, was wide awake, swinging his bottle in-between his fingers like a pendulum. Enjolras' mood faded quickly and he raised an eyebrow. "Grantaire.." he set his mug down on the banister of the stairs.

"Enjolras."

"Is there something wrong?"

Grantaire shook his head. "No. 'Course not."

"You're lying."

Grantaire chuckled deeply. "And so are you."

"What are you talking about?!" Enjolras began to get worried. Did he know about Eponine? It's not that he was ashamed of her. No! He was so proud. But.. if the lads ever found out, they would think he was falling away. And then _they _would fall away. That couldn't happen.

"I saw you outside just a few moments ago.. with a girl."

Enjolras' heart broke and sank like a ship. He held out a hand in desperation. "Look, Grantaire, it's not what you th-"

Grantaire stood up. "No. Enjolras. It is what I think. You've found yourself a woman, haven't you?"

Enjolras gulped. That was all the answer Grantaire needed. "You have." he leaned his head back and sighed. "In a way, I'm happy for you.. but.."

Enjolras twitched his nose uncomfortably. "Grantaire, please, she means no harm."

The other man sighed. "There isn't any way I can stop you, is there?"

"No."

"Then.. fine. But, Enjolras, you _do _have a mission to fulfill." he glowered and left the Cafè with a grumble.

* * *

"Eponine! _EPONINE!_" Enjolras was frantic. He couldn't find her anywhere. Not at her home, nor any of her usual spots, not even the roof beside the tavern. Once, his greatest fear was to lose the revolution, but Eponine disappearing, or dying, was slowly climbing the ladder. Enjolras rubbed the nape of his neck. Where on God's green Earth was she?

He called for her once more.

"Can it, will you! Do you want the whole of Paris to hear you?" the familiar voice brought a flutter to his heart.

"Eponine!" Enjolras rushed to the corner he saw her in and swept her into his arms. She laughed in his ear, hitting his shoulder.

"Set me down, you ogre!"

He obliged and set her down on her feet, looking deep into her eyes. "Eponine, they've found out."

She cocked her head to the side. "Who?"

"Les Amis. They know about.. us. Well, Grantaire does. But that means everyone else does, too. He can't keep a secret cause the gin loosens his tongue."

Eponine frowned. "Why is that a problem? They won't do anything, will they?"

"No! Of course not. You needn't fear them. They're merely worried I'll get distracted."

"From the revolution?"

"Yes."

"Then.. maybe.. it's best we-"

Enjolras put a finger to her lips. "Don't.. don't say that. I like you, Eponine, a lot. More than I should."

"I can't be the one who causes problems among you."

"You're not. I just.. wanted to tell you they know." Enjolras pulled her close. "Now when it rains, you can come inside."

Eponine giggled. "My, Enjolras. You're very presumptuous to think I would come inside so quickly."

"Love, your lips were blue, I knew you were cold."

Eponine hit his shoulder in jest once more. "Oh! And you're forward, too! Everyone knows it's not right to stare at a woman's lips!"

"But, my dear," Enjolras smiled. "You're lips are mine."

Enjolras broke his vow once again and pressed his lips to her's.

* * *

Not much really happened in this chapter, and it was _a lot _shorter than I had hoped for, but that's because I'm sick.. :( Please tell me what you think!

~ Jessie


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks to everyone for all your feedback! I really love you all so much! You're all so sweet. c: I am feeling gobs better! Everyone go take some time and thank **judybear236 **for helping me with the kinks in this fic and for giving me wonderful ideas. She's a doll.

**Disclaimer: I own none of the characters within this fic. Everything goes to the rightful owner. **

* * *

There was an audible gasp that came from the men the next morning when Grantaire told them the news.

Gavroche's mouth dropped to the floor. "My sister?!"

Grantaire half-nodded. "Well, I'm not exactly sure.. Sure looked like her from here. Waist the size of my fist!"

"That's disgusting.." Gavroche slumped to the floor, grumbling to himself. "Who 'ould wanna kiss my sister? Any girl, for that matter?"

Legles smiled. "You'll understand one day, little chap."

Gavroche crossed his arms indignantly. "I don't want to!"

Marius leaned back in his chair. "I don't see what the problem is. Enjolras is only-"

Grantaire frowned. "Only becoming like you. No offense. You're hardly ever here anymore, and when you are you're late. Have you forgotten what we're fighting for, Marius? Or are you just trying to show up your grand-dad?"

Marius stood up quickly, a vein in his neck bulging. His voice was low and threatening. "Don't you dare bring my grandfather into this."

Grantaire stood up slowly. "There.. That's the kind of spark Enjolras is looking for!" he poked his finger on Marius' chest. "Show it some more next time he's here, huh?"

Joly sighed. "Grantaire, if you're so sure you know what Enjolras wants, why don't you be acting-Enjolras for the day? We can let the lad go for once."

"Yeah. I've missed several times! Family stuff.." Combeferre said, swinging a pencil.

Grantaire sat back down, looking at the two men. "No: I won't be "acting-Enjolras" _and _we can't let this go; he's our leader. Besides, I'm just here for the gin and-"

"Women," Joly and Grantaire finished in unison.

"Honestly, is that all? Don't you have some inkling of want for freedom?" Joly's face began to turn red. The drunkard irritated him to no end sometimes.

"Well sure! Freedom to bed who I please! If I could I would bed all of the French court just to show them who-"

"Oh, shut up!" Jean-Pouvaire rolled his eyes, throwing a scrap piece of paper across the table.

There was a moment of silence and then Grantaire continued. "One thing is for sure: we have to get Eponine away from Enjolras.."

* * *

"Come to the library with me, Eponine," Enjolras asked as they walked beside each other. Enjolras knew he was missing a meeting; he didn't want to miss a meeting, but he _had _to miss a meeting to see Eponine.

Eponine raised an eyebrow. "The library? They wont let the likes of me inside a library.."

Enjolras frowned. "Why ever not?"

Eponine held up the bottom of her rag-skirts and tipped her hat. "Have you seen me, Enjolras? I'm dirty! I am.. dirt."

Enjolras wanted to hold Eponine's chin in his hands and stare that thought out of her head, but he just shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. "You're aren't dirt. Not to me."

"I know that." Eponine smiled; her heart was so filled by Enjolras. She couldn't explain it. He just made her happy. He treated her like any other; not a street urchin. He never tried to give her his money, like Marius so often did; he knew she would be cross if he did. She must have been becoming some sort of a problem from him, though. He was always missing his meetings at the Cafè to be with her, not that she minded. And now that Les Amis knew about her, they would surely come after her. The thought made her shiver. She had seen them get angry before; it was terribly frightening.

"Then, let me buy you something! A new dress?" Enjolras' eyes sparkled; oh, how he adored her. "Oh, Eponine. You would look so beautiful in blue! Not that you don't look beautiful in brown.. and.. and tan.." he stuttered, his cheeks turning red.

The girl fought the urge to get mad. She didn't want a new dress! "Would you like to know what I look best in, Enjolras?" Eponine slid a sly smile onto her face, backing him up against a wall.

Enjolras looked over her shoulder. People were beginning to stare. "Eponine, what are you doing?"

"I said, would you like to know what I look best in?" Enjolras gulped; this couldn't be healthy. Eponine stood on her toes and whispered a single word into his ear before rushing off toward the library. "Race you to the library!" she called over her shoulder, laughing loudly.

Enjolras cleared his throat, wiped sweat of his forehead, and straightened himself. "That is hardly fair!" he yelled, taking off after her. When he caught up with her (a street or two away from the library), he grabbed her waist roughly and gently pushed her into an alleyway. "That wasn't fair, Mademoiselle."

Eponine's face was red from laughter and running, her chest was heaving, and hair was sticking out at all sides. Enjolras had never seen a more beautiful sight. He pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. Suddenly, he remembered the meeting. He knew he was late, but he wanted to get to at least the tail end of it. "Oh hell. Eponine, I have to go! I'm sorry! The.. the-"

Eponine smiled sweetly. "The meeting. I know."

"Thank you for understanding. I _will _take you to the library one day, dear. And I will buy you a dress! Hold me to it!" he began to walk away.

Eponine grinned and nodded. "I will see you when I next see you, Enjolras.."

For the two never knew when- or if- their next meeting would happen. They could simply hope, and they did.

* * *

"There he is.." Coufeyrac whispered, having begun to get worried.

"Good God in Heaven, Enjolras! Where have you been?" Feuilly, too, had been worried about his friend. They knew he would be gone, but they didn't think that long.

"Out," Enjolras replied, taking his seat next to Grantaire. His cheeks stained a light red when he realized even Marius was there before him.

"With 'Ponine?" Marius asked from across the table. "Grantaire told us."

Enjolras rubbed his eyes. "I knew you couldn't keep a secret for long."

"In my defense," Grantaire wiped his nose. "You never said it was a secret."

"But you should assume these things!" Enjolras' voice rose as he turned to the man beside him.

"That- that is not the point!" Combeferre, always the voice of reason, said quickly and quite loudly, too. "The point is.. Enjolras.. we've been talking.."

Enjolras knew what was coming. The inevitable "it's her.. or us."

"We were talking," Legles, for once not cheerful, continued, "And we think that you need to make a decision. About the girl."

Enjolras shifted. "The girl," he growled. "Has a name."

Legles blushed and hastily fixed his mistake. "Excuse-moi. Eponine. You must make a choice about Eponine."

"She's distracting you too much, Enjolras. You're the leader. You need to be here-" Marius relieved Legles of his awkward position.

"Oh, Marius! Don't preach to me about being here at the Café! This is the first time in days you've set foot in here!" Enjolras couldn't believe it! Well, he could. But he couldn't at the same time! These men he called his brothers were trying to take away something that made him so very happy. He wanted to slit all their throats, find Eponine, marry her, and call it day. But that would be incredibly hasty.

"I'm sorry! Really, I am! I'm trying my best!"

Enjolras sighed. "I know, friend. I, too, am sorry for not being here earlier. But.. I am entitled to my own freedoms. I can come and go as I please."

"We know that!" Joly ran a hand through his hair. "It's just.. you've never _not _been here before."

"It's odd to come here and not see you, Enjolras," Pouvaire said. "Enjolras and Patria were bound as one. Isn't that what you once said?"

"I did."

"Then keep with your promise to _La Mere, _Enjolras. Go to Eponine once this bloody revolution is over!"

Enjolras closed his eyes. "But the revolution isn't for almost a year, Pouvaire!"

"We know!" they all exclaimed.

"Then let me roam free for awhile! I still come don't I! This is the first day in many I have missed! I feel like a dog chained to a chair leg!"

"We're only concerned about you," Grantaire whispered.

"Well, they are." Enjolras glared at Grantaire, indicating only the other men in the room. "All you care about is your bottle." the anger within him caused Enjolras to push the near-empty bottle out of the other man's hand; it shattered on the floor. He breathed heavily. "I'm.. I'm sorry, Grantaire. I didn't mean it."

"I know." Grantaire wiped his hands on his pants slowly. "All we're asking is for you to take a little break.."

What the men were saying was right. Enjolras needed to get back on track. He would have to stop seeing Eponine, for now. It was the only way he could keep Grantaire from doing something he would regret. He had see him get violent before. And if Grantaire wanted Eponine out of the picture, well, Enjolras needed her gone.. if only for her safety. While none of the men would think of harming a woman, Enjolras knew they would use their mind-games to scare her away, and he couldn't bear that either. He would tell her in the morning how it must be; they must be no more. The thought broke his heart in two. "All right. You've made me.. come to my senses.. I guess. She didn't mean anything to me afterall. Just an ol' street-rat anyway."

"Enjolras-" Marius warned, but Joly waved him off.

"We've got him, Marius. Let that slide," he whispered.

"Now," Enjolras looked up; his eyes cold. "Where were we?"

Combeferre pushed the maps across to him and Les Amis went farther into their plan than they had gone in a long time. Little did they realize, there was a certain young "street-rat" standing half-way up the staircase. She had come to deliver a letter to Marius from Cosette, but those letters didn't hurt her anymore. Instead, the street-rat was hurt by words coming from the one man she thought cared for her. If even just the slightest.

Eponine dropped the letter on the floor and ran out of the Cafè, tears streaming down her cheeks.

* * *

Whoops! I have so much planned for this story, you don't even know the half of it. Oh gee.

Um. I'm a stalker and found **Warblette **on Twitter and followed her. If you wanna find/follow my Twitter, or even just see what I look like, PM me! :D

Thanks once again, lovelies, for your support!

~Jessie


	7. Chapter 7

So far, the musicals I've been in are:

'Beauty and the Beast' (really fun)

'Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream-Coat' (the songs were stuck in my head for a billion years)

'Bye Bye Birdie' (hated it. it was death in a playbook)

'Oliver!' (so much fun. my brother graduated and cried and then I cried and he was the best Fagin ever)

'Annie' (so adorable)

Next year we're doing 'Shrek: the Musical.' I don't even know. What have you guys been in before? (sorry if I'm annoying you. I just wanna know about you guys!)

**Disclaimer: Once again, I own nothing. Everything belongs to it's rightful owner. Holla. **

* * *

Once again, Enjolras couldn't find Eponine. It had been days since the lads convinced him to let her go, and it was his first time out of the Cafè in many hours. He had left so he could finally tell her the news. The day was dreary and cold and Enjolras found himself worrying about the girl. Was she all right? Was she hurt? He couldn't live if she was hurt; he felt it was his duty to protect her.

_Oh God, if she's hurt.. No, Enjolras! You feel nothing for her! _

He had been walking very fast, and had gotten very far, by the time he realized where he was. Enjolras tipped his head back and strained to see the top of the building he stood under. It was Eponine's home, or it was last time he checked. Maybe she would be there. Enjolras stepped inside the tavern, wrinkling his nose in disgust. There were scraps everywhere and people lying about, burping occasionally. The air was rank with the smell of vomit and urine. Two grease-balls (the owners, Enjolras assumed) quickly left the man they were trying to steal from alone in his chair and bounded over to Enjolras.

"Good evening, Monsieur." the woman ran her hand down Enjolras' arm, batting her eyelashes. Enjolras knew, though, that Eponine's parents were the owners and chief thieves of "The Sargent at Waterloo" and that all they cared for was money and themselves. They had left Gavroche to die when he was "too expensive" and they hardly ever cared for Eponine.

"Good evening, Madame," Enjolras whispered, moving out of her grasp, searching for Eponine in the dimly lit room.

"Would you like a room, Monsieur?" then the man turned up, trying to take Enjolras' coat from him.

Enjolras struggled to get out of the man's firm grip, but succeeded, gripping his coat tightly, facing the pair. "No. Thank you. I assume you are the owners?" he asked, making sure to keep the couple in front of him at all times.

"We are, Monsieur," the woman said. "I am Madame Thénardier and this is my husband." she motioned to the tall, ugly man beside her, frowning; business was getting worse and she had a feeling the day was quickly coming when she would have to give up her inn. Then what would she have? A husband? Children? Those were things she didn't really want, but, unfortunately, had in life.

"Do you have a daughter named Eponine?" Enjolras was ready to get out of the inn; he could already feel the layer of filth on his skin. It would take days to scrub off.

Thénardier raised an eyebrow. "What could ya want with 'er, Monsieur?"

"I was wondering if you could tell me where she is? I have something to.. give her." Enjolras lied, hoping they wouldn't ask questions.

Madame Thénardier smiled. "Aye. I know where the girl is. But it'll cost ya!" she held up a finger, laughing.

Enjolras groaned and placed three coins into her large hand; she motioned that she wanted more. He gave her two more coins. "Tell me then. I've paid."

Thénardier, disinterested in Enjolras now, took the money from his wife's hand and counted it twice over. "She's in the back," he said flatly, jeering his thumb toward a door. Enjolras nodded and walked quickly over, stopping to peer through the crack in the wall.

Sure enough, Eponine had come home. Her frame looked even smaller with her large coat off and he could see the faintest outlining of her ribs. It appeared if she had just finished washing. Her thick hair was wet and clung to the back of her neck. He had thankful she had her back turned as she slipped on her dress. When she was ready, Enjolras knocked on the door once. He chuckled a small bit when she jumped; she had always been jumpy when they took walks.

"Come in," she said, her voice hoarse.

Enjolras stepped in and closed the door behind him quietly. "Hello, Eponine," he said. He expected her to rush into his arms and apologize for not meeting him when she said she would, but her face was stone as she stood, holding onto the nearest thing, which happened to be a counter. Enjolras thanked the Lord it wasn't a knife.

"Enjolras," she sneered.

"I haven't seen you in days. Where've you been?" he took a step forward, and in turn, she stepped back.

"Out."

"I was trying to find you yesterday, too."

Eponine wrung her hair in between her hands, water dripping out. "I was out, like I said."

Enjolras noticed a dark bruise underneath her eye. He walked forward and stroked the mark with his thumb. "What happened, Eponine?"

Eponine's eyes closed and she flinched, but didn't move away. "Nothing. Just some kids playing tricks."

"With what?" anger flared up in Enjolras; his original plan was going horribly wrong. Nothing that was supposed to happen was happening. He meant to get in, tell her what he needed to, and get out. But, like it was always was with her, he was distracted. "Who was it that hurt you?!"

Eponine moved away, folding the towel in her hand. "An officer," she confessed. "He was merely angry with me for not moving away when I was told to."

Enjolras took hold of Eponine's shoulders. "An officer?!"

"Yes. I'm all right, Enjolras. Besides, I'm not your concern anymore."

Enjolras raised an eyebrow. "Why is that?"

Eponine turned around and looked Enjolras dead in the eye. "Because I'm nothing but a street-rat."

Enjolras' heart dropped to his stomach. "You heard." How had she heard?!

Eponine nodded. "Yes. I heard.. I should have known," she whispered. "It was too good to be true."

Enjolras gripped Eponine's wrist, but she pulled away again. "Eponine, that's not it, though! I do like you! A lot. You're.. you're not a street-rat."

"But you said I was, Enjolras!" Eponine turned around to face him, eyes wild with hurt. The sight caught his heart strings and tugged.

Enjolras sighed, trying to figure out how to say it all. "The lads don't like you. They think you're distracting me. That's what I came here to tell you! To tell you that I can't see you anymore because I need to focus on the revolution. But once the revolution is over, we can be together. Eponine, I only said those things because I needed them to believe me! I meant nothing of it!" Enjolras was desperate. Desperate for Eponine to listen; desperate for her to understand.

"Enjolras, you hurt me!" Eponine cried. "I thought you thought differently of me!"

"I do!"

"You can't just waltz in here and expect me to fall back into your arms after what you said!" she frowned, her fists hardening. "Too many times in my life have I been lied to.."

"I know," Enjolras whispered. "But, you don't see, do you, Eponine? I can't see you. Not until the revolution is over.. I can't have you "fall into my arms.."

"You probably wont even come back from the revolution, Enjolras." Eponine sighed. "Look, it was a mistake that we ever saw each other so-"

Enjolras shook his head, a stroke of genius coming to mind. "I think I might have the solution, Eponine! That is.. if you'll still have me?"

Eponine scoffed. "Have you? You're right back to where you began, Monsieur." Enjolras winced. "But.. I'm listening.."

* * *

"Everyone.." Enjolras said proudly, walking into the Cafè, bringing in behind him a scrawny young thing. "This is Eponine Thénardier. She's joining our fight."

Marius dropped his cup and silence reigned. It wasn't that the girl joining was Eponine, it was the sole fact that a girl was joining their fight. Sure, Maria sometimes added her two cents and so did Isabella, but the boys didn't really count those two women as fighters. A girl? Joining Les Amis? Eponine?!

"Since she was distracting me," Enjolras blushed. "I decided I would add her to our group. I don't want to stop seeing her, and she has valid insight to who we're fighting for. She knows her way around the slums. What do you say?" Enjolras beamed, his hand clenched tight to Eponine's.

"I say you're crazy!" Grantaire stood up quickly, pushing up his sleeves.

"I say you're a liar, Joly!" Legles looked over to his friend. "You said Enjolras was going out to say he didn't want to see her anymore, not bring her back here!"

"I had no idea he was going to do this!" Joly turned to glare at Enjolras. "This isn't what I said I would cover you for!"

Enjolras held up his hands as the fighting continued and yelled, "Stop it!" the fighting stopped and the students took their places again. "Now, there was really no point in asking you, since she's gonna fight with us whether you like it or not.. And, Joly, I lied, yes; I'm sorry.."

Coufeyrac sighed after a moment; then he stood and wrapped Eponine in a large hug. "Welcome, Eponine," he whispered, patting her back awkwardly.

Eponine wanted to cry. They were accepting her! Most everyone of the lads gave her a hug, or shook her hand, anything. All except Grantaire, but she wasn't surprised. Just as long as she could be there with them and Enjolras.

Enjolras.

There was another problem. Eponine's heart was still hurt from what he said, and it would take a lot more than him adding her to his group to fix her. When everyone had settled down, she pulled him aside. "You told me I could live here, Enjolras. That's the only reason I'm here. Not for you, or the revolution, or anything else. I need a home."

"I know." Enjolras smiled and took her hand; Eponine pulled away.

"I'm still angry with you."

"I can see that. Until you're not," Enjolras pursed his lips. "Then you can sleep there." he pointed to the cot he usually slept on; he could make due with the floor for awhile.

Eponine smiled. "Thank you."

The night continued with Eponine filling in where most help was needed and how she could help, too. Most of the men were wary still. They weren't sure this was the best idea and they would try to prove Eponine's ideas useless. Enjolras told Eponine even though they all made her feel welcome, it would take much time for them to actually except her. After Grantaire, in an angry fit, called her a whore, she fell silent for the rest of the evening.

_Don't push them too hard, 'Ponine, _she thought. _You're a girl for God's sake. _

She admired them anyway. The way their eyes lit up when someone mentioned revolution, and the way they treated each other as brothers. It was a real family; the first real family Eponine had ever encountered. It was after midnight when everyone began to leave. Enjolras had given them the next day off in order to regain their spirits for a day of speech giving that was quickly arriving. Most of them would sleep the next day away, or drink it away, but some would still show up at the Cafè to work on their poems and see friends.

Marius was the only one left (save Enjolras) then, and Eponine's heart raced. She had long since taken off her coat and hat and had already given herself a tour of the Cafè, so now, all there was to do was stare awkwardly down at the floor.

"Marius," Enjolras whispered. "You're beat. Go home. Spend the day with Cosette tomorrow."

The name still made Eponine's heart weep. She would never not have feelings for Marius; she loved him too much to let him go entirely. Eponine felt Marius cast a wary glance at her before he stood up. She could hear him talk quietly with Enjolras.

"I don't like what you've done. You've put her in danger, Enjolras."

"No I haven't. She'll be perfectly safe here with all of us."

"Enjolras," Marius growled, looking at Eponine quickly. "You know that isn't true."

Enjolras closed his eyes in anger. "Marius, what I've done I must and it's final."

Marius sighed and left with a grumble. Eponine stood and swayed on her toes; the room suddenly felt very hot. "Enjolras, I really do seem to be a problem.."

Enjolras shook his head, not looking up from the map he was bent over. In truth, he was thinking the same thing, but Eponine had no home now. He couldn't send her away; he cared too much. "Eponine, I'm going to tell you once: you're not an issue."

Eponine nodded; the look in his eye scared the words away from her.

"If that's it then, I think I'll go to bed, Enjolras." she paused before going downstairs to change and get something to eat. "Thank you, Enjolras. You're a saint."

* * *

Argh. Um. I don't really know when the next chapter will be out. I'm aiming for this weekend, though. :D Love you all!

~Jessie


	8. Chapter 8

My anxiety got really, really bad this week. Thank you once again everyone for your support! :D

**Disclaimer: I **_**still **_**own nothing. Everything belongs to its rightful owner.**

* * *

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into one month and Eponine finally felt installed into Les Amis. The men generally enjoyed her company and view on subjects, and they all treated her with much respect. Enjolras could have never been more proud. Eponine was a fighter at heart, that much he had learned. He had long suspected that she wanted the things he did, but he never knew on what sort of scale. It had taken awhile for Eponine to feel comfortable; some of the men had said horrible things about her, and she first kept to the back of the room, twiddling her fingers. But then Feuilly made a comment about gangs of children and how dangerous it was for them out there and they should all go home to their families.

Eponine's face had knotted up quickly and she rushed to the edge of the table, pushing Jehan out of the way. "But no!" she had said. "It's more dangerous for them to be at home, Monsieur! Gavroche was treated horribly when he was at home. My father loathed the little brat and beat him black and blue for having too much of a cheek to him. Sometimes I could hear Gavroche cry well into the night, but that was only until he began coming to your meetings! He came home bright and happy for the first time in his life! Then when my father kicked him out, I knew where he would go." Eponine glanced at Grantaire. "He loves you all so much, and you feed him better than he was ever fed and you love him more than he was ever loved. The children of Paris who live on the streets, while some_ do_ die of hunger, find places to live and to prosper. And Gavroche cares for his gang of misfits! I know so. So don't say they should go home to their families, Monsieur, because most of them haven't got any.."

Grantaire stared at the single girl aghast. "You're a nutter," he whispered, eyes wide.

"No, Monsieur." 'Ponine turned around. "I merely know what it's like." and she sat back down in her chair without another word.

After that, some of the men directed their questions about poverty toward Eponine and she was glad to answer, and she was also glad to prove them wrong. All was well in her world for once.

One particularly cold night, none of Les Amis showed up to the regular meeting. Enjolras didn't complain, though. It was beyond freezing that night, and had just begun to snow, and he wouldn't blame his friends for not wanting to leave their homes. Eponine was content to have a night at ease, as well. She was sitting on the floor, munching on a leg of roast, staring at the wall before her. When she had finished, she licked the grease from her fingers and threw the bone to the stray dogs who hung outside the window.

"Greedy mutts," she groaned as the cold bit her nose.

"The only reason they bark the whole night is because you're the only one who feeds them, Eponine," Enjolras said from his chair, chuckling lowly.

"I can't let them starve, too," she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You're so good, Eponine."

Eponine blushed. "You're not too bad yourself."

It was all a blur, those five short minutes. In the beginning, Eponine was simply turning away to turn down the multiple quilts on her bed, trying not to feel Enjolras' penetrating stares. In the end, though, she could feel the wall pushing into her back as Enjolras ravaged her neck and his hands wandered up and down her sides. She was frozen; stuck between wanting to push him off and forget anything happened or letting him have his way with her. She could tell he was so relieved they could still be together. So much so that he flung all caution to the wind and here they were, up against the wall, where anyone could find them. Eponine was surprised this hadn't happened before, in fact. Enjolras had brought in another cot, setting himself up ten feet away from her, far enough to still be warm, but on the edge of a cold night because of the drafty windows. He'd never made any advancement toward her; he still thought she was angry with him for what he had said, but that had long since past. She knew he wanted to, though. But he would never put his honor and her reputation at stake.

Eponine unfurled her hands from his shoulders and gulped in air. "Enjolras," she breathed; he didn't listen. "Enjolras!"

He paused, refusing to part with his neck. "Mhm?"

"Let go of me.. please," she whimpered, her skin itching.

He tightened his grip, and for a moment, Eponine was worried he wouldn't oblige her, but, like the gentleman he was, he let her nearly fall to the floor in a ball. Enjolras backed away, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry, Mademoiselle," he whispered, red faced.

Eponine shook her head, though. "No. Please do not apologize." she looked up and smiled at Enjolras. "My pride is not wounded."

Enjolras hesitated and then backed away to press the shutters closed on the windows. _At least they cut off some of the draft, _he thought. His mind raced. He had never really been with a woman before. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He had been with a prostitute once or twice to just.. experience the feeling, but he had never been with a woman he cared for. But everything with Eponine just felt right. Like the deed should have been done and over long ago. She felt like his other half that had been missing for so long. He could see himself settling down with her.. if they made it out alive. Start a family, have a proper job.. Yes. He liked that idea very much.

But he knew it could never be.

He would never make it out of the revolution alive, and neither would she. Enjolras pushed the thought away. He turned around and noticed yet another bruise along her cheekbone. It must have been the second one that month.

"Eponine, where did you get that mark?" he asked.

Eponine's slender fingers touched her cheek. "I don't know," she lied.

Enjolras raised an eyebrow. "Eponine," he warned.

Eponine sighed, shrugging off her coat, reaching for a thin nightgown Enjolras had insisted on getting her. She fingered the lace on the side, trying to come up with an adequate excuse. "I've got nothing," she murmured, turning around to Enjolras. "It was that soldier again. He knows I'm involved with you lot and he doesn't take too kindly to the idea of a woman with ideas in her head."

Enjolras went ridged. The first he had heard of this.. soldier.. was when he went to Eponine's house. She had then promised not to go to the areas she could possibly see him in, but she must have snuck off once or twice when no one was looking. "Did he do anything else to you?" Enjolras warily asked.

Eponine blushed and shook her head. "Course not. I'm dirt, remember?" she winked and started with the ties on the back of her dress. "Enjolras, as much as I enjoy your company, would you mind popping downstairs so I can change?"

Enjolras frowned. "Eponine, I want to talk about this man. He has to be put in his place!"

Eponine gave off an exasperated sigh. "I'm all right, Monsieur! Stop worrying about me for once and think of yourself! You hardly ever-"

Enjolras punched his fists together. "I want to worry about you, Eponine! I care for you-"

"I don't see why," she muttered.

Enjolras ignored her and continued. "_I care for you_," he said through gritted teeth. "And I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I wont go there again; I promise," she whispered, changing her stance.

"Go where? Eponine, tell me! I need to have a ch-"

"_The library_!" she yelled, eyes closed tight. "It's a man at the library."

Enjolras took a step back breathing heavily. "The.. the library?"

Eponine nodded. "I love to read, Enjolras." she smiled. "And so sometimes, I sneak into the library through the back and sit underneath this one desk and read for hours on end. There's this one man who works there and he found me once, so he hit me over the head with a book." Eponine sighed and sat down on the bed, folding her hands in her lap. "He told me to never go back. I went anyway the next day, and each time he finds me, he hits me with the book I'm reading." she looked up, expecting to see fires of anger in Enjolras' eyes, instead she saw admiration and love.

"Oh, Eponine," he said, sitting beside her; he took her hands in his. "I'm so sorry he's done this to you, and only because you want to read.." she shrugged. "I'll.. I'll go talk to him."

"Don't. I just wont go anymore; it's all right."

Enjolras brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "Eponine, if you want to read in the library, you should be able to. I _will _have a talk with this man, be in no doubt. But until then, I'll get the books for you myself. How does that sound?"

Eponine laughed, tipping her head back; Enjolras' heart rate sped up. "Okay.. all right. If it makes you happy!" she looked over at him and smiled genuinely. "Why are you so good to me?"

"Because I like you.. I like you a lot. And I want you to be happy, and healthy, and loved." he pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth. "Goodnight, Eponine."

Eponine swallowed and blinked. "Goodnight.. Enjolras."

* * *

I have _no clue _when the next chapter will be up. Hopefully middle of next week since I don't have very many rehearsals this week. LOVE YOU!

~Jessie


	9. Chapter 9

Just wait, you guys. Just wait. (maniacalstarts now)

**Disclaimer: I own nothing from Les Mis. Nor do I own Aaron Tveit, but I'd **_**really **_**like to.. **

* * *

Eponine awoke with a small shriek, startled by movement across the room. She heard a soft chuckle and frowned, the dark hiding her blush.

"Enjolras," she scolded. "Don't do that!" she was referring to the way he would sometimes get up during the night and hit the shutters. They made an awful creaking noise that scared Eponine half to death and it had been his only amusement for days. You couldn't really blame the poor man, though. He'd been stuck in the Cafè Musain for the past three days!

The sky had opened one night and let out it's fury, dropping tons and tons of white flakes on the ground. Enjolras guessed maybe the snow was up to three or four feet now, and it wasn't stopping either. He knew none of Les Amis were able to leave their houses and he could only hope they were still studying. The only people in the Cafè were he and Eponine. Everyone else had braved the storm in order to get home to their families.

_Three days. _Three days of nothing but bread that was quickly becoming stale, hardly any meat, and weak beer. Enjolras wasn't really complaining, though. He had spent three days with Eponine _alone_;with not one interruption. Who knew how many more days they would have together? Of course, this did push his plans back, but those could wait for later. Just being with her was all that mattered.

Enjolras almost giggled, but kept it to a chuckle for dignity's sake. "But, Eponine, the way you always shriek!"

Eponine flung her legs out of bed, wincing at the cold that pierced her bare feet. "I'm sorry! I merely forget because _I'm sleeping_!" her brow was pulled down in a most unattractive sneer and her fists were clenched together.

Enjolras fell into the nearest chair, now rolling with laughter. He loved to get Eponine all riled up. The way her face turned red and her shoulders hunched over slightly made him laugh, and laughing was something he didn't do often enough.

Eponine groaned and turned around. She was going mad. _Three bloody days. _Three days with this thoroughly aggravating, extremely polite, breathtakingly attractive man. It's not that she wanted the snow to melt and Les Amis come rushing back in to break up their time together. On the contrary. She wanted nothing more than for the snow to keep falling and lock them inside the dingy Cafè forever.

Eponine stamped her foot on the ground. "You are so.. so.." she struggled to find the right words.

Enjolras raised an eyebrow and stood up from his chair slowly. "So.. what?" he whispered.

"You're the devil," Eponine was furious.

Enjolras nodded, pursing his lips, still walking forward. "Oh, I'm sure." he walked behind his, resisting the urge to laugh when he saw her breath quicken. "And, Eponine, what exactly is the devil like?" he ran his hands over her shoulders. "Enlighten me, darling."

"The.. the devil is cunning," she began, wringing her hands together.

"Mhm.."

"And deceiving."

"Do you find me deceiving, Mademoiselle?" Enjolras stepped in front of her, so close their noses nearly touched. Eponone shook her head, biting her lip. Oh how she hated him. He pressed his lips quickly to her's. "Good." and he hurried downstairs for some bread.

Eponine groaned and ran down the stairs after him. "Enjolras, wait a moment!" she found him rooting around on his hands and knees in the cupboard; they were nearly out of food.

"What is it?" he asked without turning around.

Eponine dropped to her knees beside him. "I don't really think you're the devil," she whispered, staring intently at his profile.

Enjolras laughed heartily and Eponine smiled. "Oh, my dear, I know!"

Eponine's smile faltered for a moment. "Would you like to know what I really think, Monsieur?" Enjolras looked up. "I think," Eponine's smile grew. "I think that you are an angel. You are a hero, and strong, and passionate, and a fighter. I admire you greatly and I want only for you to be happy." she placed a hand on his cheek. "You've made me happy and healthy, Enjolras. And for that.. I think.. I think I love you."

Enjolras gulped. "You what?" he asked flatly.

Eponine nodded. "I love you. I don't know how I didn't see it before. Mari-" she was silenced by a warm feeling on her lips.

"Oh God, Eponine," Enjolras breathed against her lips, "I love you, too."

* * *

Eponine whimpered and held onto Enjolras' shoulders for support once more. He groaned and had to stop himself from putting all his weight on top of her; Eponine shuddered. Enjolras rolled over onto his back, pulling her atop him. He was out of breath, and rightfully so.

"I don't really think that's how it's supposed to go," he said after some time. "I think one says 'I love you' more than once before.. well.." he smiled, rubbing his thumb across her bare shoulder.

"You're not sorry, are you?" she asked quietly.

"Oh God, no."

Eponine smiled and scooted closer (if that was even possible) to Enjolras. She had made a commitment: to be his forever. The way he made her feel was like heaven. She wanted to go at it again and again until she'd had her fill, but she would never have her fill of the one she loved. Not ever.

Enjolras tipped her head up and kissed her softly once more. "I really did want to keep you pure for as long as I could, dear. But, you're just too beautiful."

Eponine laughed, shaking against his chest. "You make me feel like the Queen, Enjolras!"

"You're my Queen," he whispered, nipping her ear. Eponine shivered and not because of the cold.

Eponine sighed a sigh of contentment. "I don't want them to come back. I want to stay like this forever."

"I'd like that, too."

Eponine grinned, swirling her finger on his collar-bone. "I was thinking, if you'd like to, you could call me 'Ponine. I don't mind. I've missed hearing it, actually."

"All right." Enjolras shifted. "'Ponine." the word sounded foreign and unfitting on his tongue. "No. I like Eponine better."

"Good, because that sounded very odd," she laughed again.

Enjolras sat up quickly, pulling her with him. Eponine stifled a cry and covered her chest with the thin sheet; the rest of the sheet, though, pooled around Enjolras' waist. "I was thinking, too."

"About what?" she asked, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

"We aren't going to make it out of this alive, Mademoiselle."

She groaned, leaning back against the wall behind her. "I know that."

"Part of me wants to run away," he began, staring off. "I want to be with you forever.. and that could happen if we were to run."

"But, Enjolras, if you, _we_, ran, we would be leaving everyone behind. The revolution would fall apart without you. We'd be betraying them."

Enjolras bunched some of the sheet up in his fist. "I know," he said through a clenched jaw. "I know. Damn!"

Eponine sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. "For now, we should just enjoy our time together. If it wasn't for the day you found me in the alley, or the night on the roof," she smiled fondly. "I still would have been stuck on Marius, and I would die an unhappy maid. But now I can die a happy one."

"You're not still a maid, though." he gestured to their still naked bodies.

Eponine laughed. "I know that, doof! But no one else must."

"Then.. I will enjoy my time with the now happy maid."

Eponine shifted onto Enjolras once again, wincing slightly at the pain. "And I will enjoy my time with the, I presume, happy revolutionary."

Enjolras settled his large hands on Eponine's small waist. "You presume correct, my dear."

* * *

The next morning Eponine awoke in a layer of sweat and pile of quilts; she was alone. Stretching, and finding herself sore in places she didn't know could be sore, Eponine rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

"And there she is! _Ma sympathique, gentille, et tr__é__s belle ami_." Enjolras bounded up the stairs, fully dressed now, with a mug of cider.

Eponine frowned, sitting up. "Cider? But we ran out days ago?!"

"This I know," he grinned, pecking her lips quickly. "But the snow has stopped and Maria was able to make it here this morning. She brought the quilts along, too. She said some of Les Amis might be able to get here today."

Eponine nodded, letting the cider warm her cold body. "Hand me my dress, will you?"

Enjolras pouted. "I rather like it off you, though!"

Eponine rolled her eyes and stood up, grabbing the dress herself. Enjolras ran his hand over her visible ribs. "You must eat more, my love," he whispered.

"But I don't really-"

"Enjolras! My dear... Oh God.." Grantaire took leaps up the stairs, smiling broadly to only stop in his tracks when he saw the barely dressed Eponine.

Eponine shrieked and hid behind Enjolras, slipping the dress of her head quickly. Her cheeks burned, and she knew she would never be able to look at the drunken man the same way again. Enjolras laughed. "Grantaire, I have never seen you so shell-shocked!"

"But.. but.. you.. and.. a gir-" he stuttered, pointing between Enjolras and Eponine.

Enjolras winked at his lover and patted Grantaire's shoulder, leading him downstairs. "Yes. Yes, Grantaire. A girl. Let us get you some gin, now? That always makes you feel better."

Eponine rubbed the back of her neck. It was good to have Grantaire back, even if he had seen her naked. Things would soon get back to normal and the magic of her days alone with Enjolras would end. But she would always have the night to look forward to. When they could talk, and kiss, without any questions or glares.

It was all looking up for sure.

* * *

I would like to thank all 103 people who have followed this story and everyone who has favorited it and who have ever reviewed. I love you all so much.

~ Jessie


	10. Chapter 10

Poor planning on my part equals confusion.

**Disclaimer: These things are stupid because I don't own anything. And if I did.. well.. we wont go there. **

* * *

Eponine sighed as the pain washed away; her stomach had been giving her extreme issues for the past couple of days and she figured her monthly cycle would roll around anytime soon. This she dreaded for two reasons: one being it was all just so much of a pain, and she wouldn't be able to look at Enjolras without feeling somewhat guilty. Enjolras looked up from his plate, slowing down his chewing process.

"Is everything all right," he asked, shoveling in another bite of potatoes.

Eponine nodded, smiling warily down at her own plate which she had hardly touched. "Not that hungry."

Enjolras frowned slightly, scraping off his plate. "That's odd. You're usually very hungry."

Eponine shrugged. "I haven't felt that well today, 's all."

"Do you think you're getting sick? Eponine, if you're getting sick, I need to take you to the doctor." Enjolras set his plate down, staring at her intently.

The girl across from him clenched her fists and tried to stay calm. "No, Enjolras!" she lowered her suddenly rising voice. "I.. I don't need to see a doctor-"

"Are you sure? I can have Joly-"

"Enjolras!" he fell silent. "Thank you, but I need to rest.. That is all." she pushed up from the table, walking toward the stairs.

There were very few customers in the tavern part of the Musain that night, for which Eponine was thankful. She had grown up in an inn and didn't take to kindly to having her privacy invaded once again. She loved her new home and the safety that came with it, also the love. As she climbed the stairs, she thought of the way she and Enjolras had spent the past few weeks in literal bliss. He loved her, she loved him, they were together, and that was all that mattered. They had their revolution to work on during the day, and each other in the night.

While she headed to the back corner on the top floor she had set up as hers (a curtain sectioning it off so she could keep _some _pride if the men stayed afterward), Eponine reflected on the way he made her feel. The way he always took his time, and whispered in her ear how much he loved her. He wanted only the best for her, and the best he would give if it took everything out of him. Eponine smiled to herself as she changed into her nightgown, letting down her hair. She loved Enjolras, that much she knew.

Downstairs, Enjolras held his forehead in his hands. _Women_, he thought. As much as he cared for Eponine, she was oddly moody, and he didn't like it. The revolutionary leaned back in his chair and rubbed his legs. He loved Eponine, this much he knew, too.

"God, Eponine, the things you do," he whispered before heading on upstairs himself. He bid Maria a goodnight and tried to pay for his dinner, but she refused saying, "You pay rent enough."

Enjolras took the stairs two at a time. Maybe rest was what Eponine needed, but he didn't intend to give it to her tonight. Earlier, at the meeting, she had made an alluring speech, driving him mad. He began shrugging off his coat, reaching for the ties of his shirt, when something made him stop. Enjolras sighed heavily, defeated. Eponine lay on their bed (they had pushed the two cots together), arm slung over her forehead, snoring softly.

He pulled off his shirt and boots anyway, sliding under the covers to spoon her next to him. She mumbled something about how nervous she was about something Enjolras didn't quite catch, but she remained asleep. He chuckled and kissed her temple before sliding into a sleep he founded himself yearning for, too.

The next morning, Eponine awoke with a start, lurching forward, her elbow connecting with Enjolras' gut; he groaned loudly, holding his middle. Eponine held her hand to her mouth to stop anything from coming out.

"Eponine," Enjolras rasped, noticing her near-green face. "Are you okay?"

She leaped over the bed and Enjolras in one jump and stumbled over to the bucket beside the curtain. She silently thanked the Lord no one had need to use it in the night. Clutching the sides, Eponine heaved up whatever had been in her stomach the night before and then some. Enjolras staggered over to her, wrinkling his nose. Joly might be able to deal with sickness, but he was not. Holding her hair back with one hand, and rubbing her lower back with the other, Enjolras tried not to get sick himself. When she had finished, Eponine fell back into Enjolras' arms, shaking slightly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I just.."

Enjolras shook his head and scooped her into his arms, carrying her back to bed. "Don't apologize, Mademoiselle. I knew you were getting something," he scolded himself. "I'll have Joly take a look at you when he gets here, eh?"

Eponine shook her head. "No! Enjolras-"

"No buts, my love. I want you healthy. Now rest," he whispered, kissing her forehead, before emptying the bucket, clothing himself, and running downstairs.

Eponine groaned, then rolled over. This _could not _turn out well.

* * *

"Moody? Overly hungry, then not so much? Tired? Sick in the morning?" Joly pressed his fingers to his forehead. "Damn it, Enjolras. If I didn't know you, I would think that you're the most idiotic, naïve, ignorant man alive!" Enjolras looked taken aback. "But, I know you, dear friend. And you're simply.. naïve in this area. Stay down here and I'll go have a look on her."

Joly sighed and stood up, taking another swig of beer. Les Amis had been forced to meet, quietly, in the large cupboard room since Enjolras wanted Eponine to be able to rest. Some had left and were going to return that night, but most perched themselves on a shelf, barrel, even a sack of flour, and were conversing away.

Joly shouldered his way out of the room, and slowly walked up the stairs. All those symptoms pointed to something that would destroy their chances of freedom and could even destroy Enjolras from the inside out. He prayed it was merely time of Eponine's cycle.

"Knock knock, enter enter," Joly whispered, pulling the curtain back.

Eponine was now awake, running her hand through the sides of her dark hair. "Joly!" she smiled; the two had formed a close bond in the past few weeks and she was surprisingly happy to see him, although she knew what this meant.

"Enjolras told me you weren't feeling well," he said, sitting down in the chair beside her. Eponine nodded. "He told me some of your symptoms." she nodded slower. "It looks like only one thing I can think, Niny."she frowned at the nickname Les Amis had picked for her; on the outside she hated it, but on the inside it was more treasured than 'Ponine ever was.

"I know," she whispered, ashamed.

"Have you started bleeding yet?" he asked. Eponine turned stark red. "I'm training to become a doctor, Eponine. These things stay between us.. and I don't judge you. You're a woman, I sort of understand you." Truth was, Joly would never completely understand women, just how their bodies worked.. maybe.

Eponine shook her head. "No."

Joly took in a deep breath, a bubble of anger forming in the pit of his stomach. "Should you be?"

Eponine shrugged, tipping her head back. "I don't know?! Maybe! I can't remember, Joly!"

"All right. Okay. It's okay.." Joly was more trying to comfort himself than Eponine now. "Niny, tell me, have you and Enjolras-"

"Yes."

"Oh, God." it was a prayer this time and Eponine winced. "Didn't you know about Queen Marie's Lace Seeds? They're supposed to keep one from this!" Joly's face began to turn red and he stood up quickly.

"I know that, you clot! But have you seen how expensive those things are? Besides, they probably don't even work! And, before you say it, I'm not asking Enjolras for money! No." Eponine got out of bed carefully.

Joly ran a hand through his hair, which he felt quickly thinning by the moment. He breathed calmly for a moment. "There's one thing I can do to make sure.."

"Please," Eponine pleaded. This couldn't happen, not now, not when she was finally happy. "I need your help."

"All right. Go sit down." Joly rubbed his eyes.

* * *

Joly descended the stairs very, very slowly. His life had turned upside down in one single moment. He needed to get Enjolras alone. Walking into the cupboard, he was met by a loud cheer and a mug of beer was shoved into his hands. He downed it quickly; beer was _exactly _what he needed, and lots of it. He smiled carefully, pushing his way back to Enjolras who sat talking with Feuilly.

The man with the curls looked up when Joly appeared. "Well?" he asked quickly. "Is she going to be okay?"

_I'm not sure, _is what Joly wanted to say. _She took it like a knife in the gut. _He laughed instead. "Yes. She's going to be fine, but I do need to speak with you alone." he glanced at Grantaire, who had appeared to eavesdrop.

Enjolras nodded, shooing everyone out of the back door to come back that night when they could use the full tavern room after everyone had left. When he was sure they were all gone, Enjolras turned around, happy shinning in his eyes. Joly wanted to turn around and leave with everyone else, but he had to tell him.

"Joly? Are you all right, my friend?" Enjolras led Joly to the nearest chair, but the other man wouldn't, couldn't, sit down. Enjolras was always so caring toward other people, and normally forgot to care for himself. Now, he would have to make another decision that would affect him- hard. It was time to worry about Enjolras and Enjolras alone, in Joly's opinion.

"Yes.. y-yes," Joly stuttered. "Well, no. Not exactly."

"Is something wrong with her?" Enjolras gripped Joly's forearms.

"No. She's healthy; you've made her so. She's very healthy, Enjolras.. and pray.." Joly's heart began to beat like a drum; he was sure Enjolras could hear it. Turning around, Joly ran a tired hand over his chin. He turned to face his friend. His friend he would follow to hell and back; his friend he loved so much; his friend.. his friend who's life was about to change, and Joly was sure he would help him as much as he could.

Enjolras laughed nervously. "Out with it then!"

Joly closed his eyes. "Pray the baby is, too."

* * *

It's finally here! I'VE WAITED FOR THIS MOMENT FOR SO LONG! Ugh; this feels good. Tell me what you think! I love writing this story so gosh-dang much. :D Much love!

~ Jessie


	11. Chapter 11

Sorry for the longer wait for this update. I was at the first costume check most of the day Saturday (why, Mama Hollen, why?!), and today has not gone very well.. _But _it did keep you all in suspense.

(Oh, and Saturday, while wearing this really snazzy dress from the 30s, I found out my elbows hyper-extend. That was cool.)

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Don't sue because I have no money.**

* * *

The world stopped turning, at least, in Enjolras' mind. He took a second, and then collapsed into the nearest chair, gripping onto the underside so hard his knuckles turned ghost white. His initial thought was to run, as far as he could, away from _everything_.

_A bloody child. _

Enjolras swallowed hard. "A child?" he could barely muster a whisper.

Joly nodded, pulling up a chair in front of him. "Yes.."

Enjolras held his head in his hands. "I.. I can't be a father." Oh, but how he wanted to be. When he was in his early teen years, he would often think of having children, but he had long since given up that dream since freedom took over his heart. Most of his mind hated his new predicament. This changed his life. He would have to.. have to leave the revolution. But he couldn't do that. After all his work?! He couldn't just drop Eponine, though; he loved her too much. Some of his mind, though, just a small sliver, was elated. A child! _His _child.. The thought made his soul beam with pride.

Enjolras ran a shaking hand through his hair. He need to talk with her. They needed to work this out. One thing was for sure: Eponine would have to leave when the revolution started, or sooner. He could not have her.. or _his child _in the middle of it all. He would send for them if he survived, but he knew that wouldn't be so.

Taking a shaky breath, Enjolras stood up and clasped Joly's hand in his own. "Thank you, Joly. Thank you. If you would be so kind to cancel the meeting tonight; let everyone else know. But, don't tell them about Eponine."

Joly sighed and nodded. "I wish you the best."

Enjolras shrugged, already heading for the door. "The best.." he scoffed.

* * *

The stairs creaked underneath Enjolras' heavy footsteps. His heart quivered in his chest. Gripping onto the top banister for dear life, Enjolras cleared his throat. Eponine was standing, facing the window, her arms wrapped around her small frame. Enjolras wanted to comfort her, but things had to be straightened out.

"My d-" Enjolras caught himself. "Eponine, please, sit down and close the damn shutters," his voice came out harsher than he would have liked.

Eponine jumped slightly, whether from surprise or fear, Enjolras didn't know. She obeyed and, instead of sitting at the table, held on to the back of a chair tightly. "Go on," she pleaded after a moment of tense staring.

Enjolras curled his fingers around the banister tighter. "You're with child." Eponine nodded and after a moment he said, "I don't know what to say.."

There was a silence full of confusion and shame.

Finally, Eponine spoke up. "Say something.. please."

Enjolras rubbed his eyes and sat down on the top step. "I am happy, Eponine. Truthfully. But, dear God, how could we have been so stupid?! We can't bring a child into this mess of a world!"

"I know-" she whispered.

Suddenly, it all came pouring out. "I don't know what we were thinking! We should have never done any of this!" Enjolras hopped to his feet now, pacing, more scolding himself than Eponine. "I have the revolution to think of, for pity's sake, not a child or a pregnant woman!"

"Enjolras, I-" Eponine uncurled her hands and then curled them up again, her anger rising.

"I love you, Eponine, I do. I don't know why I do and how it came to be, but I do. Simple as that. Nothing is going to change that, ever. But this.. _this problem _changes my whole life!" he stuck out his hand, glaring at the floor.

"_Don't you think it changes mine, too?!_" Eponine had never yelled at Enjolras before, but now there was nothing stopping her. "_I'm the one who is going to have to put up with _this problem _for the rest of my life. Shit, Enjolras! This is just as much your fault as it is mine!_" Eponine took a deep breath and skirted past him. "Now.. if you'll excuse me.. I'm leaving."

Enjolras frowned, still shocked from her outburst. "Leaving? What are you talking about?"

"You obviously don't want this child, which saddens me greatly. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, even if it would be short, but now.. I'm not so sure anymore." Eponine turned around and quickly changed into her old dress and oversized coat. Tears glimmered in her eyes. She loved Enjolras with all her heart, but she couldn't get in the way now. "Goodbye, Enjolras." and before he could say anything or reach out to touch her, she left, for what she hoped was, for good.

* * *

The hard, cold ground dug into Eponine's knees as she fell to the ground some time later. "Damn it," she whispered, standing up quickly. She had left the Café in much haste, choosing to grab a loaf of bread and some fruit from the closet to hold her over for just a couple of days. The tears she finally let loose had clouded her vision and sent her falling to the ground, but she couldn't let that phase her.

Where was she to go? She had no where. No where at all; not anymore.

Her heart was broken. She knew, of course, that Enjolras still loved her, and she him, but with the baby.. God. Eponine would grow soon; Joly had said she was at least a month along. She would grow and get in the way, become a nuisance, and soon Enjolras would have no choice but to throw her out. If not him, than Grantaire wouldn't mind. Eponine's chest heaved and she fell against the nearest wall.

"Enjolras," she whispered, repeating it over and over again, as a soft rain began to patter against the ground.

* * *

Enjolras was livid. He needed her just as much as he needed air to breath and food to live. She was a fool, a stubborn old cow, but a beautiful one at that. Enjolras picked up the nearest bottle and threw it against the wall, before crashing to the ground himself. Running a hand over his chin, he felt tears arise in his eyes.

Him? Crying?

_Enjolras hadn't cried since he was a boy. Once, a few days before his father had left his family in the dumps, Enjolras' mother had gotten into another fight with her husband. It ended when his father nearly beat her into a pulp, in front of the children, too. Enjolras desperately wanted to say something, but for fear he would be beaten too, he bit his tongue. When the deed was done and his father left to get drunk off his rocker, Enjolras had broken down in defeated tears._

But, now, as the warm tears slid down his face, Enjolras couldn't help but sob.

* * *

It stunk, the cot. Eponine had controlled herself after some time, pulled up her skirt, and walked through the bustle of people to an old warehouse on the edge of town. It had been abandoned years before and a handful full of homeless and hungry people had taken shelter in the large building. She'd paid her dues to get in with some of the bread she'd taken from the Café; they didn't just allow _anyone _in. An old man Eponine had known from her childhood led her to a corner of children, some she knew from being friends with Gavroche, where she would sleep. The cot provided for her was thin, worn out, moldy, and infested. Eponine knew she would rather become a worker for the House of Ill-repute than ever sleep on that bed. Soon, though, she found herself lying down on the cold ground, her hat serving as her pillow. She wished she was back home.. at The Musain.. where she had a real bed, and a real pillow, and where her love was. Eponine had used up her supply of tears earlier, so she had nothing left to give, but that didn't stop her from breath rapidly and making odd noises. But as the moon shined through the cracks above her head and kept her up most of the night, Eponine couldn't help but feel somewhat happy.

There was a child. _Inside of her. _The thought made her glow. She could hardly wait to hold it and love it and take it away from the harsh world. Maybe they would go to the southern part of France. She'd heard of the nice vineyards there; she could get a job at one of those. And apparently, the area was more than beautiful. It would be a nice place to raise a child; not thoughts of revolution, or fighting, just.. peace and rolling hills.

Eponine faintly smiled, placing her hand on her stomach. It wouldn't be so bad living without him, would it?

* * *

He tossed for the fifth time that night, listening to the mice scurry across the windowsill outside. He wondered where she was. Was she all right? Was she hurt?

Dead?

He pushed the thoughts away, but they came flooding back just as fast. What if she had made some rash decision and gone to a doctor after all? What if she had.. gotten rid of the child? Enjolras had heard of this process before, and he believed strongly against it.

He should have been more gentle and maybe she would have stayed. There was only one thing he knew to do. So, Enjolras slid out of bed and stumbled to the cabinet on the wall. He opened the door and latched onto the nearest bottle he could find. As the burning liquid fell down his throat, he began to feel better.

It wouldn't be so bad living without her, would it?

* * *

I know this jumps around a lot, but I wanted to compare and contrast how the two dealt with things. Hope this is sort of what y'all were looking for! Thank you so much for your feedback. :D

~Jessie


	12. Chapter 12

You guys are the most precious things ever. LOVE TO YOU!

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing. Everything goes to its rightful owner.**

* * *

"Little girl, you gonna eat that?" a rough voice asked Eponine, breaking her out of her trance. She looked up at the large woman in front of her before shaking her head, handing the woman the last of her bread.

"No.. No.. I'm not," she whispered.

"Well, then, thank you," the woman grumbled, waddling away to divvy the bread up between her, her husband, and three children; the hunk was hardly larger than Eponine's fist.

Eponine nodded, standing slowly. Weeks had past; how many Eponine didn't really know, or care. The only thing that got her through the day was her child. She knew she needed strength and food was scarce, so she took to a job, selling apples. It paid very, very little; whatever she sold was her's really. The man who provided the apples said she could take two a day, but that was it. With the money she earned, Eponine could usually buy the end pieces of bread and small sliver of cheese or ham if she was lucky. Because of the food she bought and ate slowly (some she saved or gave to the boys that quickly took to her), Eponine knew her child was good and healthy. A small bump was beginning to appear, and sometimes- just sometimes- if she sat still for long enough, and her surroundings were quiet, Eponine could feel the tinniest bits of movement within her.

As she walked toward the door, Eponine grabbed her coat off the barrel. The barrel served as a heater for the warehouse, a fire was placed inside (one of the many) and it heated whatever was laid out on top. Eponine would lay her coat out for an hour or so, allowing it to get warm enough, and then pull it on before leaving to sell her apples. The heat didn't last very long since the cold outside shocked it away, but it lasted just long enough.

Cornelius, one of the friendly elder gentlemen in the home, waved Eponine goodbye, like he always did, with his toothless grin. She mustered one back and he chuckled to himself. Pushing open the oversized door, Eponine headed out into the world. She kept her head down for both warmth and privacy's sake. Once, she had nearly run into Comberferre on his way to a meeting; she'd pushed her head down to pick the apples that had fallen and for a moment it looked like he might recognize her, but she pitched her voice higher than usual and the scarf wrapped around her face helped, too. He'd apologized a few times before scurrying off. The man who had given Eponine the job to sell apples wasn't entirely unpleasant. If she was being completely honest, Eponine might say she sort of fancied the extremely tall, lanky, brunette man. He was kind to her and careful. He could tell she was pregnant and alone; he wanted for her to be pregnant and happy, though.

"Good morning, Matthieu," Eponine whispered, taking the basket from his waiting hands when she reached his cart.

Matthieu smiled warmly and Eponine tensed. She knew he liked her, but she would never feel the same way, even if she did find him attractive. "Miss," he croaked. Matthieu had always called her 'miss' never by her real name and this Eponine hated the most.

"Please," she groaned. "Call me Eponine!"

_This is what Enjolras must have felt like_, she thought. _Enjolras.. _she pushed the thought of him away; he was probably better off anyway.

Matthieu nodded awkwardly. "Well.. if you insist."

"I do." she smiled at him, turning to walk away to the corners she usually stood at.

"Wait, Eponine!" Matthiue called, rushing to catch up with her. "If you'd like to, after you finish today, I was hoping that.. I was wondering if.. You see! I wanted to know if I could buy you supper?"

Eponine started. Dinner? With Matthieu? Part of her wanted to for both company who didn't reek of fish and moldy bread, and for fresh food. The other half refused because of Enjolras. But wasn't Eponine supposed to be getting over him?

She agreed simply because there would be food that wasn't just bread. As she headed toward the corner near the apothecary, Eponine felt guilt consume her. It was annoying, though, to feel guilt for something she shouldn't. Eponine had left Enjolras, right? Wasn't she entitled to see whom she wished? But why did agreeing to go to dinner with Matthieu make her feel as if she was betraying her one and only? Maybe that was it: because Enjolras was her one and only. For the rest of the day, Eponine tried to focus on the prospect of new and warm food. When it was time to return to the cart, Eponine was thoroughly proud of herself. She had earned twice what she usually did and this meant that she would have much more for her dinner tomorrow. Maybe Gavroche would roll around and she could feed him, too. Sometimes he would show up and it was nice to see her little brother again, even if they rarely spoke.

Eponine's hands trembled from nerves and the cold as Matthieu led her to a restaurant tucked away in between a brothel and a church. Eponine might have snickered had her head not been too distracted by everything else. Matthiue held the small door open for her, having to stoop to get through himself. He hummed uncomfortably, leading her toward a table near the back. While Matthieu seemed tense, Eponine was peaceful.

"Here." he handed her a well worn menu.

Eponine relished the words; she'd been unable to get her hands on a book in ages. She wasn't honestly too hungry, but she ordered enough to hold her down for a _very long _time. Matthieu chuckled occasionally at her fervor, but stopped when she looked up and blushed in embarrassment. Even though the food was cheap and probably second cuts, it was the most heavenly thing Eponine had ever tasted. When she'd finished her meat and potatoes, bread and fruit, Eponine leaned back in the chair and smiled.

"Thank you," she laughed; for the first time in weeks.

Matthieu shrugged and played with the cloth napkin in his hands. "I'm just helping a.. friend."

Eponine opened her mouth to reply, but looked past his shoulder as the door opened (she was facing the door, after all, and it was interesting to see the people come and go). Her heart shattered and then scattered in the wind, leaving her well behind; she had trouble catching her breath. With shaking hands, Eponine took a long swig of water and stood up slowly, eyes never leaving the men who had just walked in.

Marius.

Grantaire.

Courfeyrac.

_Enjolras. _

He'd found her. Well, not really. They'd just happened to stumble into one another in a café shoved between a whore-house and chapel. Luckily, they hadn't seen her, and they wouldn't. Matthieu frowned, worry lines on his forehead; he stood, too.

"Eponine?" he asked, his voice soft, but strong; she mustn't leave, not now.

"I'm sorry." she looked between her employer and her friends. "I have to go! Thank you so much, Monsieur. I.. I'll see you tomorrow!" she held her hands out, backing up. "Is there a back way out?" she asked quickly. "You know, I'll just find it. Good-bye!" and she rushed away, bumping into a man carrying a tray, sending it clattering to the floor. She stooped to help him pick it up, but knew all eyes were on them, so she kept her head down and rushed away through a back door she found through the kitchen (the cooks were far more than angry when a young, pregnant girl ran through with no explanation!).

* * *

Enjolras could have sworn her saw her in the restaurant, over where the tall man was, helping the other man who'd dropped his tray. He could have sworn he saw her dark hair, olive skin; he thought he smelled her; she'd always smelled of strawberries. But he shook the feeling off. Eponine had been gone for maybe a month and half, and she wasn't coming back.

Courfeyrac clapped Enjolras on the shoulder. "Sit down, Enjolras. Relax." the younger man smiled, eager to see Enjolras loosen up (Les Amis still didn't know Eponine was pregnant; Enjolras had sworn Joly to secrecy. They all thought she just up and left with no word.).

The other man took a hesitant seat, still watching the tall man, now paying his bill. What if it had been Eponine? Was she here with that other man? Enjolras' heart began to ache. She couldn't do that to him! She was his, and his alone. That thought, though, made Enjolras take a step back. She wasn't his, not anymore. He couldn't say that, much less think it.

A round of beers were brought to the table and Grantaire placed one in Enjolras' hand. Every since Eponine's departure, Grantaire had watched, silently, as Enjolras fell into drinking more and more. He wanted for his friend to stop, but he liked seeing Enjolras drunk. It was the most amusement he got out of his day. The curly haired man would sing and sing badly. He would recite poems (or try to, at least) and spin tales that didn't make a lick of sense. But best of all, to Grantaire, really, was that he smiled. A large genuine smile that took up his whole face and lit the whole room like a bonfire. It was rare that Enjolras smiled anymore.

Enjolras frowned at the dark liquid, pushing it away, asking for a glass of water. While his friends spent the night laughing and carrying on, Enjolras spent the night staring out the window at the small figure speaking with the tall one.

* * *

Eponine knew it was risky to still be near the small restaurant, but Matthieu wanted to speak with her. She also knew Enjolras had sat near the window; she could see his hair.

Stamping her foot because of cold and anxiety, Eponine groaned. "What, Mattieu? I need to leave!"

"But why? That's what I must know!" he was in earnest. What made her leave so fast like that? Was someone after her?

"It.. It's something- _someone_- from my past." Eponine rolled her eyes, hoping that would suffice.

Matthieu held her shoulders. "Was it one of those men? Did they do anything to hurt you?" he next gestured to her protruding stomach. "Did they do this? Without asking!"

Eponine eased out of his grasp and shook her head. "No! No. This was my choice. They didn't hurt me.."

"Then what is it you're running from?" he asked.

"Before I.. left.. I was madly in love and then I fell pregnant." Eponine rubbed her forehead. "I would have gotten in the way sooner or later, so I knew I needed to leave; for the good of him and the others. Matthieu, this was all my choice!" she flung her arms out indicating the scenery around her.

His stance changed, he was more rigid now. "You were in love? Not anymore?"

Eponine laughed lightly. "Why must you have so many questions?! I think.. it might be starting to die away." this was, of course, the fattest lie she'd ever told; if anything, her love for Enjolras was growing stronger by the day.

Matthieu sighed. Was that relief Eponine heard? "Good.."

"Good?" she raised an eyebrow, stepping back.

Matthieu nodded quickly. "Miss, you are without a home, are you not?" Eponine nodded. "I.. I would like to give you a home. Please! Let me finish. You see, I see the way you work, and I'm very proud of you." the man rubbed his hands together. "You are with child and I wish to make a home for both you and the child. I know that you don't love me, Eponine. But, God Almightly, I love you! I always have.. and maybe.. in time, you could learn to do the same in return." he held her shoulders once more and she struggled.

"Let me go," she whispered harshly; he didn't.

"Eponine, I _need _you!" Matthieu growled.

Eponine was suddenly scared. She'd never seen Matthieu like this before; he was almost primal. "Please, Matthiue! I do not love you! I never will! God, my heart belongs to another. Let me go!" she cried, pushing on his arms, but with each push earned more strength.

Eponine whirled. She prayed to God above Grantaire happened to look outside; he would set Matthiue straight. (In order to clear this up, it should be noted that Grantaire and Eponine were almost as close and Joly and herself were. Though, the two jested and prodded one another it was all out of love.) Matthieu was closing in, his hand suddenly gripping her chin.

"No," he said, holding tighter. "You're mine." Matthieu slid out a small knife from his pocket.

_Oh, God! _He was going to kill her!

There was only one thing the woman knew to do:

"_Enjolras!_"

* * *

The cry came and Enjolras sprung to his feet. "I knew it," he muttered, grabbing his coat. After turning away from the figure long before, Enjolras had felt a nagging sense something would soon go wrong.

"What is it?" Grantaire stood as well. The voice that cried out sounded oddly familiar. As if from a dream..

"Eponine." Enjolras pushed his way out of the door, Grantaire on his heels.

Outside the cold air whipped past and shocked the two men into standing still for a few moments. That is until Enjolras noticed the man holding onto Eponine quite roughly across the road. He, for some reason, hit Grantaire softly in the chest twice before rushing across the street. Grantaire knew what to do. He followed suit and kept close to Enjolras, choosing the right moment to spring from behind the other man and grip Matthieu's collar so hard the air was cut off from his throat.

"What do you think you're doing?" Grantaire growled, pushing Matthieu away from Eponine, flinging the knife away, a hint of humor in his voice.

"Nothin'! I swear, I wasn't doing anything!" Matthieu was struggling. By now, Marius and Courfeyrac had joined the commotion, lending Grantaire a hand in pummeling the apple seller into a pulp.

No one hurt Ninny. No one.

One might have felt bad for Matthiue, if they let themselves for just a moment. They way he lay on his side, hands in front of his face, whimpering, as three men beat him mercilessly. But if they had known the story, they would have joined in, too. Many years later, Matthieu would be found to be a violent killer; he would lure poor women in by giving them a job, steady one. Then he would build a relationship of sorts and one day slit their throats clean through. It would have been Eponine's fate as well if not for her quick thinking.

If only Grantaire had finished him off then and there, how many lives would have been saved, but he was too good for that. He gave Matthiue one last kick and sent him on his way. He turned to find Eponine, but stopped; Enjolras already had.

He elbowed the others. "Lets go, lads. We can see her later and ply the truth from her." and they made their way back to The Musain.

Over in a corner, there lay a hunched over woman, trembling with fear. Enjolras approached her slowly, his heart rate dangerously high. "Eponine," he whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder; she flinched. "My dear," how he'd longed to say that once more. "I will not hurt you. You're safe now."

Eponine drew in a deep breath. Was she ready? No. Did she want to be back in his arms? God, yes. The forlorn woman looked up. "Enjolras?" she cried, tears streaming down her face. "Enjolras!" and she broke down in back-breaking sobs on his lap, finally home.

* * *

This is probs my favorite chapter so far; oh gosh! Please, please, please read and review!

~Jessie


	13. Chapter 13

Oh lawdy.. _The Book Thief _is a good book and 'Duck Dynasty' is a funny show.

**Disclaimer: Still own nothin'. Blah.. de.. blah.. de.. BLAH!**

* * *

Enjolras was stunned into stillness and silence for a few seconds as Eponine clung to his waist. Her small body wracked with sobs and her hair stuck out at odd angles across her forehead. Enjolras froze, hands in the air.

Was.. was this really happening? Or was he going to wake up again soon?

He always had dreams of her. Some were good; they were happy, alive, together; children ran around them, too. Some were bad; she would leave in some, like she had; in one, she turned to Grantaire; in another, she was raped before his very eyes, then her head sliced clean off. He always awoke drenched in sweat and tears.

Finally, when Eponine had stopped crying and reduced herself to simply shaking, Enjolras shifted and stood up, pulling her into the air along with him. This revamped the tears of the woman all over again; he'd never heard such a beautiful sound. He considered shushing her quietly, but that would do no good, so he walked. And walked, and walked. All the way back to The Musain in silence, carrying a shaking, weeping woman. He couldn't have been happier.

* * *

Joly's hand twitched nervously. He wanted nothing more than to hold Eponine's cheek in his hand and see her smile once again. Jehan was antsy, too; he'd written her a poem for her return. In fact, all Les Amis were nervous. Grantaire had told them all- in immense detail- what had happened. All wanted to know she was safe, and _home. _

Marius was the first to hear the tell-tale signs of Enjolras' footsteps. Everyone stood up in unison.

Grantaire dropped his bottle.

"Enjolras.." Joly whispered. "Is she all right?"

Enjolras nodded gravely. "Yes. I think so.." Enjolras moved to the bed he hadn't touched since she'd left. "Eponine?" he whispered; she moved her head slightly. "Eponine? Would you come out of there?" from inside his chest, Eponine shook her head.

"I feel too horrible," she confessed into the cotton of his shirt. "For leaving. I can't face them now."

Comberferre shifted uncomfortably; Feuilly twitched his nose; the room was _too _silent.

"They aren't angry, Eponine." Enjolras stroked her hair, suddenly aware of all the eyes on him. "Come on." he nearly had to pull her off of him; she sighed and moved away, her head downcast.

"Niny," Grantaire began, but stopped. There was something different about her, something he couldn't place.

The room remained silent until Jehan stepped forward. "I was wondering," he mumbled. "If I could read you something?"

Eponine looked up, tears in her eyes, and nodded. "Go ahead."

So, Jehan read his poem. When he'd finished, Eponine was in tears all over again; she hadn't realized how much she had missed them. Wiping her eyes, she looked up. "Thank you," she whispered, repeating it over and over. "I've missed you all.. so much."

Joly smiled. "And we you."

Eponine would have stood to hug them, but she refrained. For one, Enjolras was holding onto her hand too tightly, and two, they would have seen her stomach. They still couldn't know.

Les Amis would have moved to embrace her, but they held their ground. They were men; they didn't fall apart like the women did, even though some felt like crying. And.. there was an odd air about her and Enjolras. Like.. they wanted them to stay away. Not because of anger or anything, but because they had something to hide. Grantaire glanced at Joly, who was tapping his foot nervously. The doctor was anxious to check up on Eponine's condition. She'd been in the cold for weeks, and who knew what she had eaten?! Joly _needed _for everyone to leave.

Enjolras sensed Joly's need. He looked away from Eponine for once. "Everyone, why don't you all go home for the evening? Eponine must be tired; you can all catch up tomorrow." there was silence and stares and then the odd grumble as they all picked up their things and left. Enjolras lifted a hand. "Wait, Joly! I need to ask you something!"

Grantaire furrowed his brow as he took the steps down the stairs. Yes; there was obviously something going on.

* * *

Joly breathed a sigh of relief when he heard to door close. He rushed and gave Eponine a tighter hug than he should have. "I'm so glad you're all right!" he whispered.

Eponine laughed quietly. "Me, too."

Joly stepped back and clasped Enjolras on the shoulder. "You still have a decision to make, Enjolras."

The other man nodded. "I know." he glanced down at Eponine, who was staring at him with wide eyes. "I know.."

"Joly, I've been taking good care of myself," Eponine said, rubbing her hands together.

Joly nodded. "I know you have, dear. But I still must have a look."

Eponine groaned and fell back onto the bed; Enjolras blushed and moved away. "I'll just go get some.. cider."

* * *

Enjolras came back with three cups of steaming cider just as Joly finished. Joly took one of the cups and sat down in a nearby chair. "You're girl is just fine."

Enjolras nodded and sat beside Eponine. "Good."

Eponine filled her friends in on what had happened while she was away, where she stayed, and her attack. Joly was so glued to the tale he failed to notice how antsy the two before him were. Finally, Enjolras had to send him away.

Enjolras laughed as he did, though. "I'm sorry, Joly! I just haven't seen her in so long.."

Joly shrugged, shoving his mug into Enjolras' hands. "Eh. I get it. Besides, I have work to do. I'll see you on the morrow."

Enjolras watched Joly's back until he disappeared, then he heard a soft voice come from behind him. "Enjolras, it's cold outside. Close the door." Enjolras turned around and smiled.

"Eponine, what happened to your coat?" he asked, putting his hands on her bare arms.

"I took it off.."

"Why?"

"It's warm upstairs. Come on.."

He allowed her to lead him upstairs. "What are you doing, Eponine?" he finally asked.

"Nothing!" Eponine grinned.

Upstairs _was _indeed warm. How she did it Enjolras never found out, but Eponine had configured a way to keep all the warm air upstairs. Eponine folded her arms around Enjolras' middle. "I missed you more than anything in the world. I'm so sorry for leaving.. I was just scared."

Enjolras smiled and rubbed Eponine's back. "Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did."

Enjolras chuckled and kissed her forehead. "Touché. Mademoiselle, can I kiss you?"

Eponine's breath caught in her throat. She hadn't felt his lips on her's in months. "Mhmm.."

Enjolras smiled and held her chin between his fingers. He pressed his lips to hers and it was like the first time all over again. Eponine felt her knees buckle as the kiss intensified. She had to stop herself from getting too carried away. Joly had said they had to wait until the baby was born in order to lie together again. Eponine pushed on Enjolras' chest and broke her lips away from his.

"Enjolras, Joly said-" she ducked her head so he couldn't kiss her again.

Enjolras rolled his eyes and focused on her cheeks, her neck, her collarbones. "To hell with what that quack said," he grumbled into her neck.

"You don't mean that," Eponine sighed, letting him have his way.. for now.

"I do. Joly is a dear friend." Enjolras kissed her quickly. "But.. I need you.. now."

Eponine laughed, tipping her head back. "You can't."

"I must!"

"You won't!"

Enjolras' eyes darkened. "I will."

Eponine kissed him again roughly and slinked away down the stairs. "Monsieur, I'm famished. What sort of man are you!? Not feeding the one you love and your child! Shame!"

Enjolras groaned and ran a hand through his hair; he was in a very awkward, uncomfortable, thoroughly blissful situation. Eponine was home.. to stay.

* * *

This is one of those stupid filler chapters. Ugh. I hate these. But, hey, fluff is nice, too! Please review! Love y'all!

~Jessie


	14. Chapter 14

As a tiny announcement, I wanted to say that I an now signed up to be a beta-reader. I'd love to read any of your stories.. and stuff.. PM me with any questions!

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. All goes to rightful owners. **

* * *

Thénardier flicked the light dusting of snow off his shoulder, signaling for Brujon and Montparnasse to get a move on. "We don't got all day to find the girl! Hurry up, you gits."

The bear of a man, Brujon, tip-toed away from the alley the three were hiding in; Montparnasse, always the slick one, slid out, following M. Thénardier. The latter was bent on getting his daughter back; she'd been gone for the better part of half a year. It wasn't that he missed her.. and it wasn't for sentimental purposes; no.. Thénardier wanted his daughter back for one reason: profit.

"I'm excited to see your lass, T'nardier," Montparnasse whispered.

Thénardier threw a glance over his shoulder. "Why's that?"

'Parnasse shrugged. "I've always had a soft spot for 'er."

Thénardier chuckled. "Well, after runnin' away from me like this, you can do what you like with her."

"Gladly," 'Parnasse grimaced.

* * *

Eponine pulled a sock on, relishing in the warmth it brought. She looked over her shoulder at Enjolras, who had finally fallen asleep. She brushed her hand over his forehead.

"_Ma ch__é__ri, tu as perdu moi une seule fois, mais je promets tu n'vas pas encore_.*"

Enjolras convinced Eponine to at least let him sleep by her side the night before, if only for warmth. To get her to agree, Enjolras nearly had to grovel, but Eponine wasn't sure she could control herself; luckily, she had. Running a hand through her dark hair, Eponine moved to the stairs silently, on a hunt for food. She'd been told by Grantaire that Maria had saved something for her when Feuilly celebrated his birthday; Eponine hoped it was cake; cake was her favorite. As was her habit, Eponine began to talk to herself as she looked through the oversized cabinet. Now, though, she sometimes made little comments to the child inside her.

"Little one," she whispered (for that was what she called the baby), "I hope you enjoy cake _because _I have just found the mother-load." Eponine giggled like a schoolgirl as she pulled out a large hunk of cake. It wasn't old, which was the best part.

_Feuilly's birthday must have been just yesterday_, Eponine thought, licking her finger. _I can't eat this all at once; I have to save it. _She perched herself up on the counter and pulled the plate of cake into her lap, digging in slowly with a small fork. She closed her eyes in bliss, unaware of the three men who just sauntered into the room.

"'Ponine," she heard a gruff voice say.

The plate of chocolate cake dropped to the floor as she hopped down; it broke into two clean pieces and the stray cats that stayed in the back helped themselves to the mess of goodness splattered on the floor. Normally Eponine would have groaned and stamped her foot, but her mind had gone blank. Wrinkling her nose, Eponine pushed herself up to the counter, so her father couldn't see the small forming bump.

"Papa," she whispered, eyes wide. She hoped the crash didn't awake Enjolras.

Thénardier walked forward slowly, an old burlap bag in hand; it was empty. "I'm 'ere for two things, deary," he said flatly; her father was always flat nowadays.

"What would those be?" she asked calmly.

"Would you shut up so I can finish?" Thénardier's eyes flashed with anger. "God, you're worse than your mother!" he took a breath to calm himself. "Now.. I'm 'ere for food, money, and most importantly, you."

Eponine looked over her father's shoulder at Montparnasse. At one point, she had figured she would marry the handsome young man. It always seemed that way, at least. Her father and mother both saw 'Parnasse to be a saint with a knife. Eponine, on the other hand, saw him to be a snake with nice teeth. Eponine was silent for a moment, considering her answer. She was, too, surprised her father didn't say anything while she was silent.

"Okay," she nodded.

Thénardier blinked in surprise. "O-okay?! Yer just gonna let us waltz in 'ere and take you away with money, too?!" Thénardier looked over his shoulder at the two men behind him, his face brandishing a brilliant smile of yellow. "Well, God is good! Fill this up then, girl!" he threw the bag onto the counter, shoving his hand into the bottom to show it was good and empty.

Eponine, still oddly calm, remained where she was. "Okay," she repeated.

Brujon chimed in for once. "You just said that."

Montparnasse groaned and elbowed the bear. "Shut up, dunderbolt." he turned to Eponine, his once love. "What do ya mean?"

"Okay," Eponine repeated.

Montparnasse clenched his fist and ground his teeth together. As beautiful as she was, Eponine was a pain in his ass. "Damn it, Eponine! What do you mean by that?!" he struggled not to yell.

"I mean, all right. You can have food.. money.. whatever; I don't care. But, you can't have me, Papa." Eponine faced her father, eyes blank.

"Why's that then?" Thénardier wasn't the least bit worried; he would have Eponine, be in no doubt.

"Because I have a real home here," she nodded again, more reassuring herself.

"A home, eh?" Thénardier flared his nostrils.

"Yes, and a real family. One who loves me." Eponine smiled faintly at the thought of Enjolras, asleep upstairs; of Joly, her dearest friend; of Grantaire, the man she admired most (some of the time); of Marius, the one who still made her want to cry.

Thénardier scoffed loudly. "We're- I'm your family, sweet'eart!"

"No. You're really not." Eponine shook her head and let go of the counter, picking up the plate pieces from the ground. "This is the first time you've looked for me since I've left.. and before I left, you hardly even looked at me. Papa, you," she lowered her voice. "You know what you did way before I left."

Thénardier groaned. "You don't gotta bring that up."

"Oh, but I do." Eponine sighed. "A real father wouldn't do that."

Montparnasse walked up to Thénardier. "Boss, you said when we found her, I could do whatever.. so, can I?"

Thénardier thought for a moment, staring at his daughter. Maybe she was right.. Maybe he wasn't her father anymore. The thought hit somewhere inside and cut like a knife. Thénardier wanted to be a good parent; all right, maybe when Eponine was first born he wanted to be, but it wasn't his main concern now. At one point, though! He glanced at the lad beside him. 'Parnasse would surely do something to hurt Eponine; he always did. Thénardier looked at Eponine's wide eyes again and sighed.

"Hand me whatever food you got, girl. Go!"

Eponine figured her plan worked; she was nearly right. She rushed and filled the bag to the top. She would explain it all to Maria at a later date. When her father and his goons didn't leave right away, she cocked an eyebrow. "Well," she said.

"Well," Thénardier motioned to Montparnasse. "Go ahead."

Eponine's eyes grew. "What.."

"Go ahead; a promise is a promise."

Eponine shook her head. "No! Papa, please! He was the one.. the one who-"

Thénardier turned his back. 'Parnasse slid forward like the snake he was and pulled out his small knife. "I was the one who what, little girl? Say it."

Eponine shook her head, cornering herself against the wall. Why was it that when she got of out a life-or-death situation, she was right back in one? She thought of screaming to wake Enjolras, but she didn't want him to see her give up.

"Please," Eponine pleaded, more to her father than the man before her. "You can't."

"Why?" Thénardier whispered; Montparnasse stopped advancing.

"Because.." she had to; she had to. "I'm with child." Eponine bit her lip. Then it happened, what she knew would happen. The stinging blow that sent her to the ground.

"You whore," Montparnasse's voice seethed with disgust.

Eponine scrambled to her feet. "Father?"

Thénardier turned around and wrinkled his nose; Eponine had gotten that habit from him. "Pregnant, then?"

Eponine nodded. "Yes."

"Who's?"

Should she say? Would he hurt him? Eponine decided to, for the first time in a long time, trust her father to not do anything rash. "His name is.." it was best she didn't say his name. "He's upstairs."

Thénardier glanced at the staircase. He wanted to slash the boy's throat. Now Eponine would never make him more money. Blast! He reached for the dagger in his coat and he heard Eponine gasp.

"No!"

Thénardier stared at his daughter long and hard; he slid his dagger back into his coat and signaled for his men to leave the building. "Eponine," he began, looking at the floor. "I.."

Eponine frowned. She'd never seen him so... so.. soft. "What?"

"Good luck." he jerked the burlap sack over his shoulder and left the building quickly.

A pair of feet padded down the stairs seconds after he left. Enjolras rubbed his tired eyes. "Eponine," he asked. "Who was that?"

"No one." Eponine stared out the door.

Little did she know, it would be the last time she saw _any _of her family.

* * *

*_My darling, you have lost me once, but I promise you will not again._

I'm currently in French 2, so I felt like adding some francais in this chapter. This chapter was a little odd, I know, but I liked it for the sole reason that we got to see some of Thénardier and Eponine's relationship. I wanted to add, like, some father/daughter stuff, because he can't hate her that much. Also, I'm feeling a little brain-dead. Review, please!

~Jessie


	15. Chapter 15

Is it weird that I ship Jack and Cinderella from 'Into the Woods?' Also, this chapter may seem to be set up weird, but it will make sense in the end; hopefully.

**Disclaimer: I own ziltch. **

* * *

"Eponine, I'm pretty sure I saw someone," Enjolras held onto the banister, rubbing his nose. Sleep still clouded his mind, but he thought he saw Thénardier.. or was it just someone who didn't read the sign on the front door? "Eponine," he repeated. "Who was that?"

Eponine, still staring vacantly out the door, shrugged slightly. "I'm not sure.."

Enjolras took the final steps down and placed a warm hand on her shoulder. "Really? 'Cause you look mighty frightened."

Eponine turned away from the door and smiled up at Enjolras. "Really," she reassured him. "I'm fine. I'm more than fine; I'm great."

Enjolras laughed quietly and kissed her forehead. Inside, though, he wasn't so sure she was being honest. Thénardier was nasty, he knew that much. Many times before Enjolras had ever even figured out Eponine's name, and when she was still Marius' shadow, Eponine would creep into the Café sporting a new bruise on her cheeks, or red handprints on her arms. If he had just left the Café he must have said or done something that made Eponine so quiet. For now, though, Enjolras left the topic alone; he was starving.

He headed for the cabinet, annoyed to find it empty. "Good God, Maria is getting old." he ran a hand through his curly hair.

Eponine turned around from a table someone had left a book on. "Oh, Maria isn't getting old, Enjolras."

Enjolras raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean? There was food here this morning; I checked."

"I know, but it's not Maria's fault."

Enjolras shifted awkwardly, rubbing an eyebrow. "Was it you then? I mean, you are carrying a child, after all. And Joly says pregnant women get hungry more!"

Eponine laughed loudly. "Monsieur! Oh, Monsieur, you know nothing of women!" she was laughing so hard she had to sit down and clutch her middle. Enjolras stood by, ashamed. Eponine looked up and softened at the red look on his face. "Dear, no; no, it wasn't me."

Enjolras was nearly exasperation. The bloody woman knew who had taken the food; why didn't she say? "Who then?"

Eponine sighed and rubbed her stomach thoughtfully. "My father."

_Oh... _

* * *

Thénardier entered his inn, solemn and silent. His wife bounded up to him, like she was in her youth, and took the sack from his shoulders, squealing with delight.

"My pet, my pet!" she exclaimed, kissing his cheeks over and over. "We will dine as royals tonight!"

Little did she know those words were to be some of her last.

* * *

"Your father?" Eponine rolled her head back, 'hming' in response. "But what on Earth could he want?"

She shrugged. "I don't know," she lied. "And I don't care," she told the truth.

* * *

Heavy footsteps were what Brujon first heard; they were coming from a room upstairs. "'ey, boss," he whispered, elbowing the man who gave him shelter.

Thénardier looked at the dunce of a man. "What," he spat. He was too busy sorting through the loot to worry about Brujon.

Brujon pointed the top of the stairs.

* * *

Enjolras sped to the chair in front of Eponine; he held her hands in his, looking deep into her eyes. "Did.. did he hurt you? Is the baby-"

"I'm fine. The baby is fine."

Enjolras nodded slowly. Although he had accepted the idea of being a father, the reality still hadn't settled in. He was still scared beyond his wits, and he didn't know what he was going to do with Eponine or the baby once the revolution rolled around. He, most of the time, chose not to think about it.

* * *

"Oy!" Thénardier pointed with the end of a roll to the large man atop the stairs. "What are you doing up there? We didn't hand out any rooms!"

The man shifted his weight from one foot to the next a few times. These had to be the people. She would come running when she heard the news. No one could resist it.

It was family, after all.

* * *

"I was thinking-" Eponine began, placing a hand on Enjolras' cheek.

"Oh God." he rolled his eyes.

"No! Listen, really." Eponine stamped her foot in anger. Did he ever listen? "When the revolution starts, I'll be severely pregnant, you know?" Enjolras nodded. "And I know of somewhere I can go to wait for you."

She was sure he would be safe, so of course she would wait for him.

* * *

By now, all of the Thénardier's gang had stopped what they were looking through. All eyes were on the lanky man descending the stairs.

Mme. Thénardier placed the potato in her hand on the table. "Monsieur-" she smiled weakly.

"Save your voice, Madame," the figure whispered.

* * *

"What are you talking about?" Enjolras pulled his hands away from Eponine; he slid her hand off his cheek. "Cote de Rhone? Eponine, no. I won't allow it."

"Would you rather have me here?" Eponine raised an eyebrow, her voice calm.

"Well, no, but-"

"But nothing." Eponine smiled. "While I was away, I thought of this. There are vineyards in Cote de Rhone, no? Once well enough, I can work there; earn my keep. Besides, when you join me, Lyon is nearby; you'd be sure to find, possibly, a teaching job there. Please, Enjolras!"

* * *

Thénardier looked over his shoulder, laughing nervously. "I don't quite understand."

"Your daughter," the man said, his face covered by a hood.

"My daughter?" Thénardier tried to make his voice sound genuinely confused.

"Yes.. daughter." the man was quickly becoming impatient. "Where is she?"

"Alzema?"

Mme. Thénardier looked at her husband with detest. No one mentioned _that one _anymore. What was getting into him?

"No!" the hooded man roared; he then lowered his voice. "Eponine.."

* * *

Enjolras rested his forehead on the table. It seemed plausible enough; she would be safe. But as for eventually meeting up.. No. That would never happen.

It couldn't.

_Est-ce que chef toujours mourir, cela doit n'est pas exact?_*

* * *

Mme. Thénardier pulled on her husband's sleeve. "Tell 'em!" she snarled. "Tell 'im!"

Thénardier looked down at his wife. _Tell 'im! Tell him, you dolt! If you don't.. _

"She is.. not here, Monsieur." the words even surprised himself.

Mme. Thénardier gripped her nails into the man's arm. "What are you doing?!"

Thénardier sighed. "Protecting her!"

"Why? _Elle ne veut dire rien!_"**

* * *

"_D'accord_, Eponine. _D'accord._" Enjolras rubbed his eyes.

Eponine smiled and kissed him quickly. "_Merci! Merci!_"

"Don't, Eponine." Enjolras held up a hand. "I don't like this idea."

"But, why? You just agreed to it!"

"I know, but, Eponine-"

"You are too much of a doubter, Enjolras! I have an aunt I can stay with.. I think.."

"I am not a doubter!"

"Are, too! Enjolras, this is a good plan! You don't think I can do it, though.."

* * *

Across town, while the lovers squabbled, the Thénardiers lie side by side, drenched in their own blood. It had happened very quickly, almost too quick. The man with the knife was getting impatient; he needed to know where the girl was. She had something of his; at least, he thought she did. He had just flipped; stabbing everyone in the room in anger.

Standing over the couple, he wiped the blood of his knife. It was a shame, really. They didn't put up much of a fight. The large, brainless man had, though. He'd been the hardest to fall. Thénardier, though, the man had almost felt sorry as he killed him. He had kept murmuring something; something the other man couldn't quite catch.

It sounded a lot like: "_Ma fille chérie, me pardonnent_."*** That wouldn't make sense, though; Thénardier was not a man of feeling. Especially when it came to his daughter.

Stalking toward the door, the man had a new idea of where she may be. He left, his shoes leaving footprints of blood behind.

* * *

*The leader always has to die, isn't the right?

**She does not matter

***My darling daughter, forgive me.

You know what I hate? Plot bunnies that are _amazing_! I don't know what to do, because it's an amazing idea.. HELP!

~ Jessie


	16. Chapter 16

My darlings, where have you gone?

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to their rightful owners. **

* * *

Clunking seemed to be his trademark; well, the clunking of his boots that is. His first assumption as to where she might be was wrong. Of course she hadn't gone back. What was he thinking? So, he tried the next place that came to mind.

It was early in the morning when he finally made his arrival. He could heard the jovial sounds of men who were having too much fun _learning_. He pushed his way through a new crowd of people surging through the tiny door.

Was there some sort of celebration going on? He didn't keep up with holidays.

The woman at the front counter was chubby and red-faced from too much bustling about; a tiny girl beside her was too quiet to be working in the pub.

"_Excuse-moi, madame_," he said, pushing a man away from the counter so he could see her face.

"_Oui, monsieur? _What can I do for you?" Maria flared her nostrils in annoyance; the man had pushed his way through roughly to get to speak to her and she didn't take too kindly to rude customers, gentlemen or not.

The man coughed once; it was too stuffy in the room. He pulled his hat down lower in nerves and just to be careful.

"Do you have rooms available?" he asked quietly.

Maria glanced at the girl beside her, confused. "No. No, monsieur. There is a sign outside. We just serve food and drinks. No rooms."

"Well, what's going on up there?" he pointed to the floor above him, indicating the loud ruckus.

Maria put her hands on her hips. She'd about had it with this man. She had work to do and his insentient questions were driving her mad; to top it all off, most of the food had gone missing. She blamed Eponine.

"Look, monsieur, you a constable?" the man shook his head. "Then I don't have to speak to you. Now, you either buy a drink or some of the food we have left, or you get out!" Maria pointed to the door.

Underneath his hat, the man smiled brightly.

This was the place.

* * *

"I think it's time, Enjolras," Eponine whispered, leaning in closer.

Grantaire looked at them suspiciously. He twirled the book in his hands.

"Time for what?" Enjolras turned over to Eponine, his face in a confused smile.

"We should tell them. I can't keep hiding this. Sooner or later they'll figure it out on their own; why not tell them?"

Enjolras sighed. "They'll be angry."

"I know. But, after all, it's your fault."

Enjolras leaned back and laughed. "Oh really? _My _fault?"

"Mhmm. _And _we wou-"

"Hey everybody!" Grantaire stood up slowly, slapping his thighs. "I have an announcement to make."

Enjolras looked at Eponine with an upturned eyebrow. "This is a first.." Eponine snickered.

"Well?" Lesgles rubbed his nose; he'd caught a cold for the second time this winter.

"Everyone," Grantaire turned to Enjolras and Eponine; Enjolras groaned. "Eponine is pregnant."

Eponine buried her face in her hands, wishing she could crawl under the table. The room was silent, like it always was when someone mentioned Eponine and Enjolras' relationship. Although Les Amis loved Eponine with all of their heart, some part of them still couldn't help but be annoyed by her presence. Grantaire was the sole one who clapped; his claps were slow and mocking.

"Congratulations," he said, sly smile on his face.

Enjolras stood up, taking his hand off Eponine's back. "Grantaire, please.."

"No, monsieur! Congratulations are in order! I know I'm not from around here," the man whom had walked into the Café with his hat pulled low stepped onto the top floor. "But I do think that's the tradition. Is it not?"

Les Amis jumped to their feet as one. Comberferre threw his book on the table nearest to him. "Monsieur? How.. how did you get up here?"

The man pointed to the stairs behind him. "I took.. the stairs.."

"_Oui.. _Yes, but, no one is allowed-"

"Allowed up here, I figured." the man pulled an apple out of his coat pocket. Gavroche, who had moved to the corner, licked his lips. "I'm looking for something.. well, someone really.."

Eponine shifted awkwardly. Her stomach had become quite larger in the past few weeks; it was large enough that her dress was becoming too small, and her feet were slowly disappearing. The voice of the man sounded familiar.

Enjolras moved and placed Eponine behind him; the man sounded familiar to him as well. "Who, monsieur?"

"A Mademoiselle Eponine Thénardier? Is she here by any chance?"

Matthieu pulled back his hood and Eponine felt bile rise in her throat, and it wasn't because of her child. "Matthieu.." she whispered.

"Mhmm.. yes; it's me, my dear. I came to finish what I started."

Comberferre looked at all the confused faces; he wasn't alone. "What the hell is going on?"

Grantaire didn't take his eyes off Matthieu, but he pointed to Eponine. "This is the man.. the one who attempted to murder Eponine."

Joly frowned deeply. "Him? He's nothing but a twig!"

Matthieu scowled and walked a few steps forward; away from Eponine, oddly enough. "I am tall, _oui. _But, a twig, _non_."

"What do you want with me?" Eponine whispered, stepping out of Enjolras' grasp.

"Eponine!" he whispered harshly.

"I just came to bring some news, really, _ch__é__re._" it wasn't a lie; he just wanted to tell her what he had done. It would shake up Les Amis and their plan most likely, and Javert would pay him like he said.

"What news?" Eponine placed a hand on her stomach when she felt small flutters; she resisted smiling.

"It's about your family."

"_Ma famillie_?"

"Yes." he took a bite of his apple slowly. "They're dead. Have a wonderful day, _ch__é__re_." he kissed her cheek quickly before rushing out of the Café.

* * *

This time Eponine did throw up; several times in fact. Enjolras had sent all of Les Amis home quickly after Matthieu left. He did his best to console his love, but she wouldn't let him touch her.

Eponine's heart was gone. She was empty inside.

Gavroche hadn't left, though. He didn't really know what to feel. He hadn't seen his parents in years. Gavroche crawled over to his sister. "'Ponine?" he whispered quietly.

Eponine leaned back from her pail, which was near full. "What?" she growled.

"It's goin' to be okay," he said, tentatively touching her back.

"_Mon p__é__re, mon p__é__re.." _

"Papa? He beat you, Eponine!"

Eponine whispered and looked to her younger brother; Enjolras stood behind him, in the corner, his arms crossed. "I know, Gavroche, but.. I saw him.. hours before he died.."

"How?"

"He just.. came by. Oh, Gavroche, I could see it.. I could see it in his eyes. He was sorry; sorry for everything." she wiped her nose and pulled him into her lap. "I'm love you, _fr__é__re_." she repeated into his hair over and over again.

Enjolras had seen enough. "Gavroche," he whispered, stepping forward. "You can sleep here tonight. Would you give Eponine and I some time alone?"

Gavroche looked up at his leader and wiped his eye. "_Oui, _Enjolras.." he kissed Eponine's cheek and rushed out of the room, calling for food from Maria.

Eponine looked up from where she kneeled on her knees. "Enjol-"

He looked away, face hard. "I can feel it, Eponine. The revolution will begin soon. You're leaving for southern France, as soon as possible."

"But, Enjolras, nothing has happened yet-"

"Do not argue with me! Pack your bags!"

Eponine was confused; what was going on? Her parents were dead, and he was being colder than ever. She complied, though. "Whatever you say, but I'm going home tomorrow. Briefly. I have things to get."

* * *

**I have an announcement to make, **_**which **_**I will make in the beginning of the next chapter! **Stay tuned!

~ Jessie


	17. Chapter 17

**Announcement: **I mentioned awhile back about a plot bunny I got really early one morning.. I've decided that since the dang thing wouldn't let me go, I would have to indulge it. I will be starting a new fanfic for Les Misérables sometime soon. There is no specific date yet, and I don't think there will be. All I know is that it will be out like.. 2 or 3 chapters before this fic is done. When that will be, I don't know, like I said. I'm kind of aiming for after 'Annie' is over so I can have _a lot _more time to do research and stuff. That would be around.. or after.. March 15-17. I hope lots of you go over and read it, because I have a feeling it's gonna be kick-ass.

Loves and kisses!

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to their rightful owners. **

* * *

Eponine bent, although awkwardly, to smell the flowers. She placed a hand on her stomach, which was now as big as it was going to get. She felt as if she might pop like a bubble.

After agreeing with Enjolras that she would leave for Cote du Rhone, Eponine had packed a bag of the few dresses she owned and bid Enjolras adieu. He had been oddly distant with her when they parted. Maybe it was because of the revolution? Maybe he wanted to feel as cold to her as possible.. to avoid prolonging the pain of their parting. Eponine knew she wouldn't see him again.. which is what made his coldness the worst of it.

When she reached her old home, Eponine was startled to find it boarded up completely. She took the back way through no one really knew about in order to get back in. Inside it was cold and dark. Everything from her childhood still remained, but one could tell people had died there. It just had... had that feeling.

It had taken her awhile to leave. Eponine wanted to see everything just once more. As a commemoration of her father, Eponine took the hat she gave him once along with her to her new life. She pressed her lips to her hand and pressed the hand to a post before darting away.

Now, though, Eponine was living happily in Cote du Rhone. She lived on a plantation, where she worked the fields as best she could. She rarely lasted more than an hour, for her ankles were too swollen and her back too sore.

The couple who ran the vineyard were more than happy to take her into their home. They had lost their own daughter in a boating accident and Eponine was the split image of Charlotte; it was almost like they had her back again.

Philippe, the middle aged man running the plantation, walked out onto the terrance, humming quietly. "Ah! Eponine!" he whispered; his voice was so soft and calming. "I didn't know you were out here. It is beautiful, _non_?"

Eponine nodded, breathing deeply. As happy as she was, she couldn't help but feel worried when the thoughts of revolution came to mind.

* * *

Gun-smoke was the first thing Enjolras smelt. He gripped the bottom of his musket tighter. His heart thudded in his chest. His limbs were rigid with anticipation. Courage poured over his body, and he felt serene in the silence.

A troop off soldiers appeared from around the corner. Enjolras looked to his left. Combeferre. He nodded to his friend once.

"Who goes there?" a leader from the other side yelled.

Enjolras commanded his parched tongue to work. "French revolution!" he shouted back.

Several footsteps were heard and suddenly he saw the face of the leader in between a chair and the side of a couch. "Please! If you surrender now-" the man pleaded.

"_Non!_" Enjolras shook his head, gripping the musket tighter. _They will come.. The people will rise,_ he told himself.

But they wouldn't.

* * *

"My dear Eponine," Fiona joined her husband out of the terrance. "We were looking for you."

"I know," Eponine whispered. She turned around.

"You look like you might burst; come, sit." Fiona took Eponine's arm and led her to a chair nearby. "Now, tell us, who is the father?" Fiona pried once more.

Eponine blushed. She had told the Bergerons little about her life back home in Paris. All she had said was that her parents were killed and she was left alone with child. She had gotten to Cote du Rhone through a friend of her aunt's who was traveling to the countryside. The Bergerons knew not to ask many questions when they saw the look of trepidation and sadness in her eyes, but Eponine would soon give birth; they wanted to contact the father when it happened.

"His name is.. Enjolras.." Eponine said, smiling sadly, giving in to the kind woman.

"Did he leave you because of this?" Philippe asked bluntly.

"No. No, of course not. I loved him. He loved me."

"Loved?" Fiona noted, handing Eponine a glass of water.

"Well, he loves me."

"So the lad is alive!" Philippe smiled brightly.

Eponine sighed. "_Oui_, though he won't be for long.."

"And why to you say that, my girl?"

"He's attempting to change.. France..."

"A revolutionary then?"

"_Oui._" Eponine felt a kick in her stomach and the tears rose in her eyes.

_Oh, Enjolras.. _

* * *

Feuilly was one of the first to fall. He fell silently, landing at Marius' feet.

Enjolras' breath quickened. They weren't coming. The people of France were asleep in their beds while Les Amis were being shot to the ground.

_Eponine._

_The child._

At that moment, the bullets whizzing past his head, hitting his friends, all Enjolras wanted was to hold the child; just once. Long enough to apologize for bringing it into a world so cruel.

"Joly! Joly!" he rushed to the medical student who was helping the wounded as best as he could.

"What?!" Joly looked up, anger in his eyes.

"What are my chances of survival?" Enjolras licked his lips.

At this, Joly faltered. Enjolras had said he _would _die for France. "Slim to none," he whispered.

Enjolras nodded, returning to the barricade. He would not abandon his men, but he would _try _to get out alive, if only to die from wounds later.

* * *

"How can we reach him, sunflower?" Philippe took her hand gently when she began to cry.

"_Je n'sai pas_. He's fighting! He won't survive!"

"There is always hope, Eponine! Don't fret!"

"Fret! That's all I ever do, Fiona!" Eponine broke into sobs again. She wanted to see him one last time.

"_Maintanent_, Eponine, if you get yourself riled up, you'll have this baby before it's ready to come out!" Fiona said sternly.

"Good!" Eponine cried. "The damn thing hurts!"

Fiona sighed and pushed her confused husband away. "Come inside, dear. You've had too much sun for one day.. It's time you rest for once."

* * *

"Enjolras!" Marius pulled him down from the barricade roughly.

Enjolras wiped blood off his face. Was it his own or Bahorel's? "What!"

"Leave now while you have the chance, Enjolras! There's a lull. You can still get out an-" Marius was breathing heavily; too heavily to be unwounded.

"Are you insane? Be a coward? A traitor? Please, Marius!" Enjolras shoved him away roughly, rushing into the near demolished Café. He bounded up the stairs, trying not to look at the bodies of his brothers on the floor.

Then he saw Joly shlumped atop Courfeyrac and his heart crumpled.

He never would become a doctor.

Enjolras took a look around the floor in which it all happened. All the planning, and the sweat and tears, all the fights and laughs. All the times he and Eponine...

He shook the thought away.

Where the bloody hell was Grantaire?! Enjolras hadn't seen his worthless hide in hours.

The soldiers were soon to be coming up the stairs, this much he could figure out, but blood was clouding his vision and his sense of thought. Was he bleeding from the forehead? Or was it just his imagination? He stumbled around looking for Joly.

But Joly was dead; he could not help. Enjolras didn't understand this in the time of crisis.

A boot appeared in front of his face (for he had fallen on the ground). "Enjolras?" it said.

Enjolras craned his neck upward.

Grantaire.

"Up! Up!"

"I cannot-"

"Don't lie now! Get up!" Grantaire pulled him up by his armpits. "Come on!"

"Where are we-"

"Hush up! They'll hear.."

Grantaire stuffed Enjolras in a large trunk that once held books. "Stay quiet."

Enjolras held Grantaire's wrist. "What are you-"

Grantaire put a finger to his lips. "This is for Eponine, Enjolras. Not France."

"You cannot do this-"

"You'll hate me now, I know. But I can't let you die. The revolution is over; everyone dead, but one: you. And maybe Marius. I don't know. I can't find him.."

"I have to die with the cause, Grantaire!" Enjolras struggled to push himself up. "I promised I would. Patria nee-"

Grantaire shook his head, tears in his eyes. "Lie down!" he pushed Enjolras' shoulders until he lay flat in the chest. "I wanted you to know," he whispered, looking over his shoulder at the sounds of footsteps. "I always did believe in you.."

The chest shut and Enjolras' world went black.

* * *

Well, that escalated quickly. Review please!

~ Jessie


	18. Chapter 18

Guys. Aaron Tveit at the Oscars. I peed a little. He's so.. unf.

**Disclaimer: I **_**still **_**own nothin'. **

* * *

He awoke with a start. Enjolras sat up quickly, only to fall back into the trunk after he hit his head atop the wooden lid. How long had he been asleep? Days? _Weeks? _The air was stale and thin within the trunk and Enjolras soon felt his eyes rolling back once more. He needed to get out of there. To find.. someone..

But.. he wouldn't be able to find someone. For one, all his friends were dead, and besides, he would be a wanted man after this; no one would take him in. The Revolution Leader. He would have to hide somewhere. But where?

Enjolras sighed. Cote de Rhone, of course. He would meet Eponine like he promised her, but nothing would be the same.

Enjolras pushed the lid of the trunk open, swallowing gulps of fresh air. The top floor of the ABC Café was bullet-hole ridden and blood stained, but the bodies had been removed days before. Enjolras shakily climbed out, his limbs weak from being in the same position for so long. Running a hand through his sandy locks, Enjolras felt a sob build up in his throat.

Why hadn't God killed him as well?

* * *

Matthieu bided his time before entering the office of the law. He was here to earn his pay; he had done what he was asked of, now he expected his reward. Inspector Javert had been hauled out of the Seine the previous day and Matthieu was a little relieved. The Inspector had always made his skin crawl.

Tapping his fingers nervously, Matthieu asked the man at the front desk where he could find Monsieur Gougot. The man pointed him to a door just down the hall. Matthieu nodded his thanks and drew in a breath, walking down the hall.

* * *

Enjolras stumbled down the stairs. Tears poured down his face and sobs came out of his mouth. He needed to get away from Paris. For a long time.

On the counter, there lay a fresh loaf of bread. Enjolras sniffled and wiped his cheeks. Someone knew he was there. Someone knew he would wake up. Enjolras clutched the bread to his chest and turned around quickly.

"_Bonjour?_" he said quietly, scared for the first time in awhile.

"_Vous êtes éveillé._"

Enjolras frowned. Where was the voice coming from? He griped onto the ledge of the counter for support. "Of course I'm awake! Show yourself!"

"I don't think that's the best idea." the voice had moved to a different corner.

"_Lâche alors?_"

"Coward, no. Drunkard, yes."

Enjolras' frowned deepened. But that was impossible.

He.. died.

"Is that.." he began, too scared to finish.

"_Oui._"

As the figure emerged, Enjolras stumbled back and fell to the ground, breaking into sobs all over again. _Of all people_, he thought.

Grantaire.

* * *

Theo Gougot was a reasonable man. Unlike Javert, he knew when someone was so desperate they had to commit a crime. He was a lenient, chubby old man who was so swamped trying to read through all the applications for a new head inspector that he didn't notice Matthieu slip in and sit down. Ten minutes must have passed before Matthieu cleared his throat.

Theo looked up. His face remained blank of recognition before he finally remembered. "Matthieu Lambot, wasn't it? You're here for pay.. from Monsieur Javert." Matthieu nodded. "Did you fulfill your duties?"

"Yes, Monsieur. I distracted them.. like he wished.. sent her away.. and the revolution was won. The rebels lost."

Theo rolled his eyes, waving a hand dismissively. "Good. Good." he handed Matthieu an overfilled pouch. "Have it. Now, I have work to do, so, shoo!"

Matthieu weighed the money in his hand before nodding. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me."

Matthieu darted out of the law office, heading toward the Café. He had amends to make.

* * *

Enjolras shook his head. "You're dead."

Grantaire smiled ruefully. "Not really. Could 'ave been, though. The soldiers came up and shot at me, but I jumped out the window. Nearly broke all my bones, but by the grace of God I just came out with a sprained wrist and foot. I've been waiting for you to wake up. I thought about getting you out of the trunk, but thought best not 'cause the law came around once and nearly snatched me up."

Enjolras stood up, nodding slowly, thinking rationally. "You'll come to Cote de Rhone with me then? To find Eponine?" it seemed the most reasonable idea; Grantaire couldn't just be left here.

Grantaire picked his fingernails. "No." he shook his head.

"Why ever not?"

"I'd like to stay here. Home, you know?"

Enjolras groaned. "You can't stay here! We're wanted men, Grantaire!"

Grantaire shrugged. "All the more fun!"

Enjolras ran a shaking hand through his hair again. "Please come, Grantaire. Do not be stupid about this.. Eponine would be happy to see you.. and.. _you just can't stay here_!" Enjolras was desperate for Grantaire to understand.

Grantaire sighed. "Fine! Oh merciful God, help me!" he laughed heartily and pulled Enjolras into a bone-crushing hug. Enjolras pushed him away with a smile.

"Excuse me," Matthieu stepped into the Café warily. Enjolras turned around quickly, searching for the dagger he tended to carry, but it was not longer there. "Is a.." Matthieu looked to the writing scrawled on his hand. "Enjolas _ici_?"

Enjolras changed his stance, confused. "Matthieu?" he frowned deeply. This was the near-murderer of Eponine, was it not?

Matthieu sighed and nodded. "_Oui, monsieur. Je regrette,_" he began,_"_I needed the money.." he whispered.

Enjolras bit his tongue and clenched his fists together. "What do you mean? Why are you here?"

"Inspector Javert," Enjolras and Grantaire shared a knowing look. "asked for me to infiltrate the resistance, you see. I agreed because my mother and my aunt are in poor health. I needed the money to help get them medicines. All I needed to do was scare the girl and find out a way to shake up Les Amis. I'm here to explain.. and apologize."

Enjolras winced at the former title of his men. Grantaire rubbed his nose. "Go on," he growled.

"So, that's what I did. I needed to get the girl away from you lot, so I figured family was the way to it. I didn't know how I was going to do it," Matthieu paused to take a breath and search Enjolras' face; it was blank. "so, I simply drank myself into oblivion and killed them. She came running and you lot were all in a tizzy, so I told Javert and the rest is history. I'm dreadfully sorry."

Enjolras, as weak as he was, was able to muster up the last strength he had. He flashed forward and grabbed his collar, pinning Matthieu against the wall. Through gritted teeth he said, "You killed her family for money?! Why I never in al-"

"Enjolras, lay off the man." Grantaire sighed.

Enjolras turned around, letting go of Matthieu. "Why should I? He nearly killed her!"

"I wasn't goin' to; honest to God." Matthieu shook his head fervently.

Enjolras threw him back. "You'd better have a reason for why I shouldn't tan his hide and hang it on the wall, Grantaire."

Grantaire smiled devilishly.

* * *

Eponine placed the quilt within the cradle after admiring it for the last time. She had worked very hard on it, sewing pieces of her old brown dress together with squares of fabric and clothing she found around the house. The child was due any day now and Eponine could hardly stand on her own two feet.

Fiona bustled into the room, a few letters in hand. Eponine held her breath. The couple who loved her dearly had already sent a letter to where Eponine figured Enjolras might be; she'd been hoping for one back for days, even if it was to deliver the horrid news of his death, but she'd gotten nothing.

"Any-" Eponine cleared her throat. "Anything for me?"

Fiona rooted through the letter and looked up sadly, shaking her head. "_Non, ma fleur_." Eponine nodded and fingered the edges of the blanket again. "_Attends!_"

Eponine looked up quickly. "What!"

Fiona ripped open a letter, reading quickly. "It's from.. a Matthieu."

The girl frowned. "Not him.." she groaned.

Fiona left her questions for later. "He says.. he's coming here... to find you.. and.."

Eponine raised an eyebrow. Matthieu? Come and get her? "And?"

"And the letter simply ends."

"Do you think-" Eponine bit her cheek. No, Enjolras was dead, of course. Matthieu was probably just coming to deliver the news in person. Good, then. She could give him the beating he deserved. All the same, it was the first burst of excitement she'd felt in awhile!

* * *

"Will it work?" Enjolras whispered, his strength failing him; he needed rest.

"Of course, monsieur. I've done this before." Matthieu grinned sheepishly.

Grantaire clapped his hands together. "We leave in the morning!"

* * *

But.. seriously.. the Oscars anyone?! Read and review!

~Jessie


	19. Chapter 19

Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! :) Also, I've got _another _announcement at the bottom of this chapter. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer: I **_**still **_**own nothin'. **

* * *

All Enjolras could tell was that it was terribly dark outside. Whether or not it was morning or night, he would never know. Half-asleep, and still weak, he felt the heavy affects of cold and dark pull him into a deeper state of confusion. Beside him, Matthieu and Grantaire spoke in hushed voices, pausing to give their horses a much needed rest. Matthieu had made the executive decision to leave Enjolras out of nearly all of the planning that went into.. well, whatever it was he planned.

Matthieu left the Café promptly after telling Grantaire his plan and returned just as quickly with three horses; he didn't say where he had gotten them, but Enjolras could tell they were the National Guard's. Heaven help him!

The fact that Matthieu was coming along did not bode well with Enjolras. What if he did something to hurt Eponine? Or Enjolras himself? Not on the slightest did Enjolras trust the murderer. Maybe they could just leave him in a ditch somewhere?

No. Enjolras wouldn't do that to another human. Although, did Matthieu even count as a human..?

So, the three set off for Cote du Rhone as quickly as possible carrying with them one change of clothes and little food. Matthieu had been there before with his uncle when he was a child so he had a vague memory of how to get there. He said if they rode fast enough, the trip could take three days at the least.

Enjolras prayed it was faster. He ached to hold Eponine in his arms once again.

They had been on the road for most of the night before and Paris was far behind them. Enjolras was relieved. He never wanted to step foot in the town again. Too many memories, good and bad.

He took a small sip of the water he brought. "Matthieu," he whispered. "How much farther?"

"We've made good time, _mon ami_-" even in the dark, Matthieu could see the death glare Enjolras was sending his way. He coughed awkwardly. "Ah.. if we ride as well as we have been, a day and a half, I think. We're making incredible time, _mon dieu_! For now, let the horses rest, _d'accord_? They are tired, as are you; Eponine will still be there."

* * *

The morning brought the chirping of birds and the rustle of a soft wind through the grass. Not only did it bring peace and relaxation for all the workers of _Bergerons' Champ_ because it was a Saturday, but it brought the promise of a new life through the shrilling screams of a young girl.

Eponine had gone into labor sometime during the night and the baby was stuck. He.. she.. _it _wouldn't move one inch. Fiona had sent for a doctor the second she assumed something was wrong, but doctors hardly ever made house-calls so far out into the country and the local mid-wife was taking care of her own daughter's birth in Toulouse! Luckily, a young doctor fresh out of school by the name of Faust Mionnet was able to come sometime near the peak of the mid-morning.

That wasn't for three hours.

Fiona did the best she could to sooth Eponine, but the girl was restless. She writhed on the bed in pain and sweat covered her entire body.

Philippe paced the front hall, his knuckles in his mouth. Eponine had become his daughter, there was no doubt about that. She was so much like Charlotte.. If she were to.. He shook his head. _Childbirth is a natural thing, _he told himself. He raised his head to the closed door from which Eponine's screams came from. _Just not usually like this. _

Fiona burst through the door quickly. "Philippe, _vous avez le ceravau d'un sandwich au fromage*, _water! Get me water! Hurry! She's got a fever!"

Philippe confused by the insult, stood shocked for a moment. Fiona began again. "_Tu est un con*! _Listen to me!"

"_Oui! Oui! _I'll be back in a moment!" he stumbled to the kitchen.

* * *

By mid-day, the gang of riders had made so much mileage that if any of the National Guard wanted to find Enjolras and Grantaire (or even their horses), well, it would be near impossible to catch up to them. Grantaire figured that the reason they had made such good time was because of Enjolras' near dead heart. The only thing that could bring him back was the girl and Grantaire would do everything in his power to get her back to him; that's what friends were for.

"How far now?" Enjolras gasped, patting his horses neck, giving it his last bit of water. His behind hurt like hell and his shoulders ached, but it was nothing compared to how fast his heart was racing from anxiety.

"Nightfall, or early tomorrow morning at the latest." Matthieu nodded to himself. He pointed to pair of hills in the distance. "Cote du Rhone lies just between those hills."

Enjolras smiled broadly and rubbed his shoulder quickly. "Then we have no time to loose."

* * *

This was Faust Mionnet's first childbirth. His ran a hand through his deep brown hair and then rubbed his stubbly chin; he hadn't found the time to shave before leaving and he was well past late, too. The woman on the bed was still now, well, nearly still; she still moaned on occasion and twisted herself oddly to relieve the pain. Faust rolled up his sleeves.

"You've done well, Madame," he addressed Fiona. The elderly woman blushed.

"Will the lass be okay?"

Faust pushed the blankets away from Eponine's lower half, taking an assessment. He wasn't quite sure. "I'll do the best I can."

"_Merci!_" Philippe whispered, taking his wife by the shoulders. "We'll leave you to it then.. Come along, Fiona. We needn't see this."

Fiona choked back a sob, holding onto his husband's arm for support as she left the room.

Faust took in a deep breath and did what he only knew to do. He shoved his hands into Eponine's birth canal and rooted around for the child; the girl cried out in her fevered state. He felt a foot and then an ankle. But.. that wasn't right. The baby should be head first. Faust continued up and located the neck. _God is good._ The cord was far away from the baby's neck. It was the baby's hands stopping the birth. His.. her hands were braced against the wall of the canal and gripping hard. _If only Professor Jean could have seen this._

Faust took the baby's wrists gentley and pulled them away from the sides; Eponine sighed momentarily. "Hold on then," Faust whispered. "This'll hurt, dear." Faust, as quickly as possible, turned the baby head first. Eponine began to sob in her sleep and cried out for Enjolras several times. "Now then.." Faust paid no mind and began to pull; the girl wouldn't wake up, so he had to get the baby out on his own. He only hoped it was still alive.

* * *

On the porch of the house in the Cote du Rhone valley, a young man of blond hair nearly threw himself off his horse and ran up to the door, pounding hard.

"Excuse me," he yelled, pounding harder.

Philippe came to the door quickly. "What? Who are you?!"

"I'm Enjolras. I believe you have my Eponine here?" Enjolras took a deep breath, his hands shaking.

Philippe's face went ghost white. He turned to his wife. "He's here."

* * *

*****_You have the brain of a cheese sandwhich._

_** You are an idiot! _

That was way more graphic than I expected.

**Announcement: **I'm thinking that my new fic will be out sometime sooner than before this one is done. To look out for it, it's called 'The Bullets.' Also, for timing purposes, just go with the flow that the gang got to Cote du Rhone _way _faster than they would have in real life. I can't have three chapters of them traveling, gosh darn it!


	20. Chapter 20

So, I think there's this chapter and then an epilogue. :( I'm sad this is ending, but if you wanna hear more of my stuff, I officially uploaded my new fic the other night..

**Disclaimer: I **_**still **_**own nothin'. **

* * *

The funeral was a small one. She was placed in a deep grave under a willow tree a miles miles away from the house. Philippe said she often sat underneath is when she first arrived. Eponine didn't last the childbirth. It had took too much out of her and she died shortly after the baby finally arrived. Enjolras had mere moments to say good-bye. It was hasty and messy, but those few moments would live on forever in his heart.

"_I.." Eponine choked and Enjolras shushed her quietly; he willed himself not to cry. "I don't want to say good-bye, but I think it's time.." _

_The baby was wailing in Grantaire's arms, begging to be held by someone who actually knew how to handle a child, but Enjolras pushed it all away. "We don't have to," he whispered. "Just hold on awhile longer, yes? You'll get your strength back if you just rest." he brushed his hand across her wet forehead. _

_Eponine shook her head, smiling sadly. "Non. This is the end, monsieur." _

_Enjolras broke; a sob escaped his lips and he closed his eyes. "I'm sorry.." _

_Eponine laughed. "Don't be. You made me forget, Enjolras. You made me forget I was not wanted; you made me forget I was an urchin; you made me forget about the love that could not be." she paused to take a deep breath. "Instead, you made me feel wanted, and you made me feel like a proper mademoiselle, and you gave me a real love; two, really." she nodded toward the baby. "And for that, I am forever in-indebted to you."_

_Enjolras felt the air still in his chest. "I love you, Eponine," he whispered, kissing her knuckles. He wanted to tell her how wrong she was. How it was he who was indebted to her. How she had changed him into a man who now understood what it was to care for someone so deeply. How she had taught him the way to win the people was to experience it, not say fancy words about things he hadn't seen. How she had helped him live for once._

"_And I you, Enjolras. My revolutionary. My savior." she smiled, brushing his cheek. "I'm not sad to go; I'm only sad we won't be together. I'm quite content, really. Maybe I'll find my Papa." she sighed. _

"_Eponine, I-" Enjolras began, but she cut him off with a finger to the lips. _

"_No.. Tell the baby, Enjolras. Tell the child about us. About our story. Tell the babe everything. Les Amis; my papa; Cosette; Monsieur ValJean. Tell whole lot of it. Promise me!"_

_Enjolras nodded quickly, kissing her again and again. "Please don't leave," he whispered into her shoulder. _

"_Oh, but Enjolras," Eponine gasped, quickly loosing her breath now. "This is just the beginning for you. And I am so _very _proud!"_

She gave in moments later and Enjolras sobbed longer than he ever had into her cold shoulder. After awhile, he righted himself, cold and distant once more. He didn't even look at the now sleeping child as he left the room; it was too hard.

Now, Enjolras looked down at the swaddled babe in his arms. His heart swelled. He looked like her. He had her nose, her lips, her ears. He had Enjolras' hair and eyes. His name was Alfred after Enjolras' only brother who died in an accident when he was three. Alfred Lambert after Eponine's father. Enjolras brushed his finger across Alfred's ruddy cheek. It was his last piece of Eponine and he swore he would protect and love Alfred with all his heart.

Grantaire placed his hand on Enjolras' shoulder tentatively; the minster and Bergerons had left ages ago. The sun was dipping behind the hills. "Matthieu left," Grantaire said. Enjolras nodded. "I'm glad of it, really. He was a little odd."

"He was a murderer," Enjolras spat, clutching the child tighter.

"That too, I suppose." there was an uncomfortable silence. "Enjolras, is ther-"

"No."

Grantaire pulled his hand away. "I think I'm going to go back to Paris then."

Enjolras shrugged, then heard the words. "Wait, you have to stay. She would have wanted it."

Grantaire looked at the freshly dug grave. "I know, but-"

"But nothing. You will stay." the old authority still held between the two and Grantaire nodded.

"If you wish.. Come back to the house then, _ami_. Fiona prepared a little food for you; you missed the actual meal."

Alfred rustled in his swaddle and Enjolras bounced him lightly. He had always had a knack for handling children. "I want to stay a moment."

"You've stayed plenty of moments." Grantaire took Enjolras' elbow and nearly dragged him back to the house. "Come on."

* * *

The house was filled with strangers who patted Enjolras' back and requested to hold the child; Enjolras politely declined. The workers of _Bergerons' Champ _had all gathered within the medium-sized house, dressed in the darkest clothes they owned. Other town-members of Cote du Rhone (those who lived in the more populated area) had also showed up, carrying baskets of food and letters of sympathy.

Fiona stood by the table silently and pulled out the chair for Enjolras to sit down. Only when the food was placed in front of him, and he realized how incredibly hungry he was, did Enjolras actually let go of his son. He ate the food with much fervor and shaking hands. The room was silent, everyone staring at the young revolutionary who had lost everything. When he'd finished, and sat back with a sigh, Fiona began to shoo everyone away; she dabbed her eyes several times as she watched their retreating backs. Grantaire had taken his place in a seat across from Enjolras; they always sat that way back in the Café, it just felt right. Alfred struck up a cry in his bassinet by the open back-door; the nurse maid, Victoria, attended to him.

Enjolras drummed his fingers on the table. There was little to say. He was devastated. He's lost everything, everyone, because of his foolish notions that he could change France. Philippe sensed this from his over-stuffed chair in the corner.

"It wasn't your fault, boy. Maybe women die in childbirth. Why.. my mother did when she was delivering her fifth child; I was nine. Some things have just got to take their course, and it was time for the angel to go."

Enjolras wiped his damp cheek, resting his head on the table. He waited a moment before voicing his last wish of the Bergerons. "You have a small home on the back of you property, do you not, monsieur?" Philippe nodded, taking out his pipe. "Can I live in it? The child and I? I have no where else to go, and I'd like to be close.. to her. We'd- I'd- pay of course. There's a school in town-"

Fiona shushed him with a hand on his shoulder. "Of course you can, son. No questions asked."

Enjolras looked over to Grantaire. "You can stay with us, if you'd like."

Grantaire sighed. "I don't suppose I'd mind. I saw a bar back in town; they needed a manager a sign said.."

Fiona brushed Enjolras' hair away from his face. "You are going to live a mighty life, Monsieur Enjolras, let me tell you that. And that son of yours is going to be the luckiest child on the planet. He had a mother made of gold and as strong as a mountain; and he's got a father smarter than the Pope and braver than a lion. I only hope you'll come to realize how much you've blessed France, monsieur. You may not have overthrown the government," she chuckled sadly. "But you've got people thinkin'. One day, France will be the way you want it to." she wiped her cheek. "God bless you, Enjolras. And you, too, Grantaire. I know your ass had to have done somethin' to help. Now, I'll get some things from upstairs and Victoria and I will help you lot move down into the cottage."

As she left the room, Enjolras felt a smile break across his face despite how broken he was. He raised his fist. "Vive la France."

Grantaire swallowed a sob. "Vive la France."

* * *

Cosette had been right all along. There _was_, in fact, a castle upon a cloud. Eponine laughed as she felt whole again. For the first time in her life, she breathed in a sigh of relief and pure happiness.

Her feet did not touch the cloud.

She glided.

The door to the large establishment opened without a word and she was placed, as if by a hand, upon the floor. She tilted her head up to the gold ceiling, twirling about. She heard a sudden shriek of delight. Turning around quickly, Eponine saw the face, the clean face, of her brother, Gavroche, and he sprinted toward her. Eponine fell to her knees and gathered him into her arms, her laughter like bells.

"Gavroche," she exclaimed, pulling away. "You.. why are you?"

He smiled brightly. "I fought, too, 'Ponine! Joly said I was a hero."

"You devil," she whispered, a tear falling down her cheek.

"Come on! They're all here!"

"Who?"

"Everyone! _Les Amis, _Mama, Papa, Cosette's real Mama and her adopted Papa, anda nice man named Inspector Javert; see look, 'Ponine, he gave me this pin!" Gavroche let go of her hand to proudly display the pin attached to his coat.

He took her hand again and led her to a large room just off to the right. Within it, everyone Eponine wished to see were waiting. She let go of Gavroche's hand and jumped into the nearest pair of arms she could find. After moments of tears, happiness, hellos, apologies, introductions, and laughter, Eponine paused, clutching Jehan's hand tightly. She surveyed the room. Of course, three bodies were missing. If any of them had been there, though, she would have wished for them to be back in the Cote du Rhone hillside. She was glad they were alive and well.

Jehan seemed to notice her thoughts. "How is he then?" he whispered into her ear.

"I expect he is wallowing in tears about now, but that will soon pass."

Joly laughed and took a sip of his wine. "Enjolras is nearly British, I might say. He knows how to carry on."

"Carry on he will," Eponine smiled.

"And the baby?" Feuilly asked.

"A boy."

_Les Amis _cheered. Fantine was elbowed by Coufeyrac; she now owed him twenty francs which she would never be able to give.

"His name?"

"Alfred Lambert."

In the sideline, Thénardier grinned. "That's my girl," he whispered.

The room fell silent. The lone voice of Coufeyrac was then heard:

"_Do you hear the people sing? Lost in the valley of the night. It is the music of a people who are climbing to the light-"_

Soon, everyone began to join in and the castle on the cloud shook with the sound of their voices.

"_For the wretched of the earth there is a flame that never dies_

_Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise._

_They will live again in freedom in the garden of the Lord_

_They will walk behind the ploughshed, the will put away the sword._

_The chain will be broken and all men will have their reward! _

_Will you join in our crusade? Who will be strong and stand with me?_

_Somewhere beyond the barricade is there a world you long to see?_

_Do you hear the people sing? Say do you hear the distant drums_

_It is the future that they bring when tomorrow comes_

_Will you join in our crusade? Who will be strong and stand with me?_

_Somewhere beyond the barricade is there a world you long to see?_

_Do you hear the people sing? Say do you hear the distant drums?_

_It is the future that they bring when tomorrow comes! _

_Tomorrow comes!_"

* * *

I just made myself cry.

I want to thank every single person who reviewed, or favorited, or followed this story. I am eternally grateful. Thank you so much to **judybear236 **for being a wonderful beta! I have enjoyed this story immensely and I will miss it gobs. I love you all so much! :D :D Remember to look out for the epilogue which will be sometime in the middle of this week!

Much love,

~ Jessie


	21. Epilogue

Did anybody watch 'Vikings' on Sunday? Ohgosh; it was good! And great ole' put up the second episode so I got to see Georgey-porgey be a monk!

**Disclaimer: I **_**still **_**own nothin'. **

* * *

Epilogue

Alfred turned six the day Enjolras finally lived up to his promise. The boy looked so much like himself it made him nervous. Enjolras never really got over everything that happened to him in his prime. The barricades, his friends' deaths, Eponine; it all stayed with him, overhanging him like a cloud. But Alfred was the ray of sunshine that pushed the cloud away every morning, and when he went to bed, the cloud returned. But Enjolras knew that he was content in the way he lived now.

He'd taken Eponine's advice and gotten a teaching job at the local school. Many more young families had moved in during the first summer of Enjolras' new life and Cote du Rhone had to open its first school there in the valley. Around forty children now attended and Enjolras wasn't the only teacher anymore. He himself taught the older children; there were maybe ten of them, all ranging from age twelve to eighteen. He prided himself in his students. They were bright and imaginative and they _wanted _to learn. Some days, Enjolras would simply lecture about whatever topic came to mind, and other days he actually stuck to the lesson plan. On special days- the students' favorite days- Enjolras would tell them stories and give them speeches. He would give them the speeches that he once gave to the poor of Paris and he would tell them the stories of his days at the ABC Café. He never alluded to the fact that _he _was the man who lead the others into the battle, or that the woman who had saved the leader was in fact Eponine; on purpose, the left names out and allowed the children to make their own interpretation.

Much to everyone's surprise, Grantaire got married the day after Alfred's fourth birthday. He's kept everything about the woman a secret; no one suspected anything. That morning he'd just up and said it was his wedding day and everyone was invited.

Enjolras cried at the wedding.

Her name was Annabella Rault and she was from Nice, working as a book-seller for her aunt. According to Grantaire, for him at least, it was love at first sight. Now, two years later, Annabella was expecting their first child. Because of his marriage, Grantaire had moved out of the cottage on the Bergerons' land; it's wasn't like the set up worked, anyway. Enjolras and Grantaire constantly bickered and drove each other insane. He now lived in town, two miles walk from the cottage, and ran the book shop along with Annabella.

Enjolras would be lying to himself if he said he didn't miss Grantaire; the house felt extremely empty. Something never changed, but somethings needed to change.

Alfred rolled out of bed with a squeal. He pushed his blond hair out of his eyes and rushed down the stairs, whooping with delight. Enjolras was sitting at the table, trying to grade his students' papers, but not getting anywhere with all the racket. He put his pen down and turned to face his son.

"Alfred," he said calmly. The child stopped running in circles.

"Yes, Aba?"

Enjolras sighed. Victoria, the nurse maid who had left two years earlier, had attempted to get Alfred to say 'Papa' but it came out 'Aba' and stuck. He hated it and loved it all the same. "Why are you in such a tizzy?"

Alfred giggled and held his mouth. "It's a secret," he whispered.

"Oh! Is it now." Enjolras leaned back in his chair, one arm over the back, his legs crossed. "Can't I know what the secret is, _fil_?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be much of a secret, Aba!" Alfred put his hands on his hips and frowned.

Enjolras narrowed his eyes. "This wouldn't deal with you birthday, would it?"

Alfred fell into a fit of giggles and ran to throw his arms around Enjolras' neck. "This is my favorite day!" he yelled.

Enjolras set Alfred on his knee. "Not so loud, son! My ear!"

Alfred blushed. "I'm sorry."

Enjolras sighed again; Grantaire and Annabella and the Bergerons would be over any moment for the small celebration they had every year. "Well, what would you like for _this _birthday?" he raised a glass of water to his lips.

Alfred, without hesitation, said, "A mama, Aba."

Enjolras dropped his cup on his lap; he didn't move to clean it up and neither did Alfred flinch. He just stared at him with his big eyes and repeated his wish once more. Enjolras gulped.

"A mama?" he whispered.

"_Oui. _Jehan-Luc said his mama always tucks him in at night and tells him stories and makes the best dinners. I think I'd like that this year, Aba."

Enjolras felt tears in his eyes. "Well, I.. I-" he cut himself off. No topic of mothers had every arisen in his home before. Enjolras didn't know what to do.

"Where is my mama, Aba? Why don't I have one, too?" there were the beginnings of tears in Alfred's eyes as well.

"Alfred, son, your mama.. She.. She isn't here anymore. She-"

"Why?"

Enjolras held up his hand. "She had to go." he sniffed. "The day you were born, your mother had to leave. There's no use sugar-coating it, I guess. You'll find out one day. But, Alfred, your mother passed away."

Alfred just nodded.

"But she loved you- still loves you _very, very _much!"

"Why'd she have to go?"

"She was sick."

"Oh."

The room was silent.

"Aba?"

"What?"

"Don't you want a mama, too?"

Enjolras laughed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, other kids have papas and their papas had these things called.. wives. I think those are what mamas are, too. So, don't you want a mama for yourself?"

Enjolras nearly blushed. To be honest, he did have some what of a special someone. Her name was Ruby Walker, an English woman teaching at the school. They'd been on more than several outings together.. and.. well, Enjolras did feel the slightest of something for her. He told himself not to pursue it because of Eponine and it wouldn't be professional. "I suppose, son."

"Then get one!" Alfred tried to stomp his foot, but his Enjolras' shin instead. The man groaned.

"It's a lot more complicated than that, Alfred!"

Alfred sighed. "I don't mind how long it takes. I just want a mama, too."

Enjolras brushed his finger across Alfred's red cheek. "Maybe one day, son."

Alfred slid off his father's knee. "I'm going outside to play, Aba."

"All right, but be careful! Remember what happened last time!" Enjolras called to his son as he ran out the back door.

Enjolras leaned against the wall. "A wife, Eponine?" he whispered. "I couldn't do that to you."

Deep down inside of him, Enjolras felt a stirring. It said: _Go on, dear. It's time to move on. I'll be here, waiting, like I promised._

Enjolras bit his finger and smiled. Maybe it was time. Maybe it was time to talk to Ruby, actually talk about his feelings for her. Maybe it was time to move on. She would want that. His smile grew. Enjolras knew what it was certainly time for. He rushed outside and found Alfred underneath a tree.

Alfred looked up from the sticks he was playing with. "Aba?"

Enjolras sat down in front of his son. "I have a story to tell you, Alfred. It's about me, and your Uncle R, a man named Javert, another man named ValJean, some bread, the greatest group of men in the world, but best of all, it's a story about your mother.."

* * *

**Well, it's done, it's over, and I'm extremely sad. Thank you to every single person who had anything to do with this fic! asdfjkl; I love you all so much.**

**~ Jessie **

**(This is annoying, and I don't want it to happen really, but I kinda feel a sequel comin' on. The bunnies are plotting within my head, and it's annoying. Let me know if you'd be interested in one. If I get a whole bunch-o people who say they are, then I might write a sequel, but it'll be awhile because I'm working on 'The Bullets' now. No promises)**


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